White Knight
by LordLanceahlot
Summary: Temperance 'I-don't-know-what-that-means' Brennan. At a fraternity party. Drinking heavily and being mauled by some punk frat boys. Booth scowled violently at the thought. His freaking forensics tutor. Time to go play white knight." AU. B/B.
1. Chapter 1

**This one's a little different than the Bones fandom is probably used to. I've been kind of blocked lately, so I figured I might as well through Booth and Bones into a life I'm pretty caught up in myself--college. I think a younger, less jaded Brennan and a less assured Booth might make a startlingly appropriate pair. This is definitely an AU story. Please let me know what you think... it's been awhile since I've posted anything at all. I'm getting all jittery!**

**

* * *

  
**

The phone buzzed in his pocket, rattling him from his somewhat doze in front of his schoolbooks. Checking the name, Booth flipped open the phone and checked the name—Ryan Finley—one of his hockey teammates.

"Hey," Booth answered, mindful of his sleeping little brother in the room with him. "What's up, man?"

Drunken laughs drifted through the speakers, and Booth perked up somewhat, a frown crossing his face. If he had to play designated driver one more time… damn, he told them he was taking the night off. He liked to drink as much as the rest of – actually, no that was a lie. No one liked to drink as much as some of his teammates. Regardless, it was a Thursday and his Abnormal Psych test tomorrow was going to be hell.

"Look Booth, that chick… you know, your lab tutor? The hot one?"

His jaw clenched, which took him by surprise. It wasn't like he wasn't used to his teammates speaking about women like that. The gentlemen of the Juniper Valley hockey team weren't always gentlemen. And neither was he.

_ "What about her, Finley?" He must have spat out the words a bit more vehemently than normal, because Finley let out a bark of laughter._

"Cool it, Booth. But I think you might need to get over here to Colton's house, pronto."

"Why's that?"

"Science chick is only like… what, 20? Freaking youngest grad student ever?"

"Temperance Brennan. Her name is Brennan. But yes, she's a graduate student. Smartest damn twenty-year-old ever, though. A hell of a lot smarter than me, and I've got two years on her. Why… is something wrong?"

Finley's voiced sobered somewhat, and he lowered his voice to mutter into the cell. "Just get over here, Booth."

* * *

Booth curled the girl up against his chest, his heart breaking as took in her kiss-bruised lips and ripped blouse.

"Honey," he called softly, gently. "Honey, did he… hurt you?" The question tasted bitter on his tongue. Brennan gave him an alcohol clouded gaze and rested her head against his chest, her dark lashes fanning her cheeks in an exhausted slump.

"Tired, Booth," she mumbled, her fingers clutching weakly at the T-shirt covering his chest.

"I know, sweetheart," he murmured, carefully checking her body for telltale signs or bruises that would prove he had been too late. He checked the snap of her jeans, relieved to find them buttoned and zipped, her pale stomach free of the telling bruises. He put her in the front seat of his car, reaching across her body to buckle her seatbelt securely before slumping behind the wheel of his ancient Toyota and booking it out of fraternity row.

He brought her back to his apartment, kicking open the grimy door with his foot when it stuck, and carrying her in his arms. Jared was asleep in one of Booth's old T-shirts, his arm hanging off the side of the twin bed. The apartment was no more than one shabby room, partially sectioned off by the artfully placed furniture.

Booth slept in the double bed on the other side of the cramped room and he laid Brennan down on the hunter green sheets, slipping her high heels off her petite feet. Pulling his comforter to her chin, Booth adjusted her head so she wouldn't get a crick in her neck and then stood, watching her for a few precious seconds.

Temperance "I-don't-know-what-that-means" Brennan. At a fraternity party. Drinking heavily and being mauled by some punk ass frat boys. Booth scowled violently at the thought, forever thankful for the phone call that had alerted him to her plight.

After going to the kitchen and draining a glass of lukewarm tap water, he moved over to where Jared slept, stroking his hair for a second. "Hey bud," he said softly, "move over." Jared just snorted slightly in his sleep, and Booth picked him up, insinuating his larger body behind his younger brother and curling Jared up in front of him. He was so small he barely took up any room, while Booth's feet hung off the edge. Booth laid his head on his bicep, letting Jared curl up with the pillow as he watched Brennan from across the room.

He wasn't sure what he was going to say to her in the morning, but he'd be damned if he regretted pulling her out of that party. She had been twenty seconds away from drunken sexual assault.

His freaking forensics tutor. His eyes burned as he stared across the room, unable to keep the image of the oversized jock's hands pawing at her nearly unconscious body.

She was just a kid, Booth swore softly, his hands clenching in the sheet. About four years ahead of him in school, and two years younger than he was.

Twenty

Too damn young.

She was already in graduate school, fulfilling some of the final requirements for her degree plan by keeping a tutor's position in her chosen field, forensic anthropology. His hockey coach had threatened him with expulsion from the team if he didn't start making Cs in his forensics and biology classes, some of the degree requirements for his degree in criminology.

Wide-awake after the adrenaline from the party, a wry grin shifted the grimace off his face as he thought about the dysfunctional relationship he and the girl a bed away shared. When he had shown up for tutoring, cocky and ready to charm the pants off her, she had merely looked down that patrician nose at him and called him Mr. Booth, firmly ignoring all attempts at levity.

She called him Mr. Booth, which he hated, and he called her Temperance, which _she _disliked, until they had finally agreed to call each other by their surnames only.

Yeah, their relationship was quirky and dysfunctional, but his grades were improving and she had begun to actually grasp the concept of fun.

Obviously, a little too well, he thought, his thoughts turning troubling again at the thought of her torn blouse and bruised breasts. The thought sent him tensing again, his head starting to pound. Jesus Christ. She was the epitome of a science geek, and yet so beautiful it made his heart hurt. Their tutoring sessions had been brutal at first, full of an oddly freeing bickering as she picked apart his papers and he ruffled her carefully arranged feathers.

Booth's eyes slitted shut, just as Jared shifted against his side and nestled his head against Booth's shoulder. Booth glanced down at his little brother, his throat closing up slightly when he saw the silvery tear tracks down his brother's face.

"Wake up, bud," Booth whispered, giving him a gentle shake. "Jared, wake up."

The nine-year-old came awake with a start, sniffling and then wiping his nose and eyes on Booth's shirt. "Is Dad home yet?" Jared whispered in a hoarse voice.

"No, bud," Booth replied solemnly, using a hand to rub soothing circles on his little brother's back.

"Good," Jared said softly, relaxing his head back on the pillow, brown hair spiky and matted. The moonlight coming in from the small window glanced off pale skin and a sweaty, freckled face. "Who's that?" He jerked one small shoulder backward, motioning toward Brennan's sleeping figure in his big brother's bed.

Booth paused for a minute, unsure of how to proceed. "My… friend."

"What's she doing here?"

"I think she got a little tired, so I went to go pick her up."

"Is she nice?"

"Yeah, bud, she's really nice," Booth said, the sound of a smile creeping into his voice. "She likes to study bones."

Jared let out a gasp and broke out into a wide-toothed grin. "Bones? Really? Wow. People bones? Like the skeletons from Skeletor Meets Dracula, Part II?"

Booth cuffed him gently on the shoulder. "I thought you were asleep when I was watching that!"

"Duh. No."

Jared was silent for a minute before swallowing hard.

"Tell me the story again, Seeley."

The humorous glimmer left Booth's eyes as he settled down deeper into the bed, resting his head on his forearm. "Okay, bud, but then go to sleep."

"Right, okay, just start."

Booth took a breath, wondering for the umpteenth time if repeating this story was healthy for his baby brother. God, he was at such a loss here. Regardless, sometimes it was the only thing that put Jared back to sleep on nights when he woke with tears in his eyes, and so Booth continued to tell it.

"Once upon a time there was a beautiful Queen who lived in the coolest castle ever. There was a Nintendo in every room, and pizza on the menu every night." Booth watched as a smile grew on Jared's face, even as he shut his eyes.

"The Queen had two sons, and the whole castle loved the little princes. There was a big prince and a little prince, and they were the best of friends," Booth said softly. "The older prince attended school in town, but still came home to visit his younger brother. They loved to play games in the castle and everyone loved them both. But not all was well in the castle. One night there was a collision between the Queen's carriage and a neighboring carriage. The Queen was hurt very badly and the King and his two sons were very, very sad. Time was running out for the Queen, but she made sure that the two princes knew what good boys they were and how much she loved them."

Jared's raspy voice piped in, quivering a little. "But the princes weren't scared, right?"

Booth nodded, ruffling his little brother's hair. "No, they weren't scared because they knew that their mom was just going to take a trip to see Jesus, and that she'd always watch over them. She even said the princes could talk to her if they were ever feeling scared or alone."

Jared nodded, even as he sniffled into Booth's shirt. "Tell me about the princes."

"The older one loved his little brother, and they were always having fun adventures," Booth continued, his voice low. "Even when the King left them, they stuck together. The littler prince knew that his big brother would never leave him."

"Why did the King leave?" Jared asked, even though he had heard Booth tell the story a hundred times before.

"When the Queen passed away, the King grew very angry and couldn't look at his sons without being reminded of the her. This made him very sad."

"So he left," Jared finished, slightly forlorn.

"Yeah, but the little prince knew that he would never be alone," Booth soothed, smoothing down Jared's ruffled hair. "His mom promised him she'd watch over him, and his big brother won't ever leave him."

"They'll keep having fun adventures," Jared murmured sleepily, curling against Booth.

"Yeah, we will, bud," Booth whispered, listening as Jared's breathing evened out in sleep. "Promise."

* * *

Temperance Brennan woke groggily to the jackhammering pain in her head, disorientation and the feeling that someone was watching her.

Ouch. First hangover. Unpleasant. She filed that away for future notice, half-heartedly making a note to study the exact chemical process in the brain. She barely remembered last night. Cracking an eye open, sunlight flooded her vision and she groaned, slamming it shut again.

"Hello?" an unfamiliar voice spoke near her ear. A very _young _voice. _What the hell?_

Her eyes flew open and she pushed past the rocketing pain in her skull to stare at the little boy in front of her.

She blinked at the little boy like she'd never seen one before. Reaching a hand under her body, she pushed herself up to a halfway sitting position, noticing with widening eyes and a sense of dread that she most certainly was not in her own bed.

"Who are you?" She rasped out, taking in the little boy and then more broadly, the room behind him. The kid had the skinny, lean look of a scrappy puppy, with big eyes, a cute face and a shock of messy brown hair. The room, on the other hand, was anything but cute, though at first glance it was at least clean. _Where the heck was she?_

_What had she done last night?_

The kid just stared at her, lifting one side of his mouth in a crooked grin that revealed a dimple in his cheek. "I'm Jared," he finally said, jumping up on the bed next to her. "Seeley's gonna be back soon. He left for early morning practice, but he comes back to take me to school at 9. It's only 8. Want to watch cartoons?"

Seeley? As in Seeley _Booth? _The conceited, bullheaded _jock? _She didn't know any other Seeley. How the hell had she gotten into his bed? Had she had sexual relations with that insufferable… man?

An unfamiliar sense of panic flooded her system, and she fell back on the bed, curling up within herself. She'd be able to feel it if she wasn't a virgin anymore, right? She'd feel different. The hunter green sheets were cool and soft on her flushed skin, and they smelled like _him. _Oh God.

Okay, okay. She was an empiricist. She didn't make rash conclusions with a study of all the facts available.

Fact # 1: She was in yesterday's clothes. She drew a sigh of relief. Why would Booth have sex with her and then dress her back up in her clothes? That would not be rational.

She scowled. Rational wasn't a word she'd use to describe that infuriating man. It was the worst sort of insult.

Fact # 2: She was in Seeley Booth's bed.

She pushed that one to the end of the list.

Fact # 3: Her breasts felt oddly tender, and a spot on her ribcage felt like it might be bruised.

A glimpse of herself tossing back shots flashed through her mind. Hot fire down her throat, blue eyes boring into her. Then, a hand with golden-tinged arm hair at the buttons of her blouse. White teeth and a bruising mouth.

She jerked herself from that train of thought, a tear leaking from the corner of her eyes to the pillow.

Chase Duranceau.

Chase had invited her to that party. Chase Duranceau, the best-looking boy in her organic chemistry class, so witty and popular. With those intense blue eyes and even white teeth…

"What's wrong?" The little boy interrupted her musings, and Brennan couldn't believe she had almost forgotten his quiet presence next to her on the bed. The kid saw the tears in her eyes, and his own brown eyes widened.

"Don't cry, Bones, don't cry!"

_Bones?_

"I'm sorry, Jared?" She whispered, trying to keep her facts straight above the pounding in her head. "What did you call me?"

"Bones. All Seeley told me was that you worked with bones. So, Bones. Don't cry, Bones. Please. Seeley will be back soon and he'll fix what's wrong," Jared was looking at her earnestly, as only a nine-year-old could. "Or tell me. I'll help you."

"Boo—Seeley will be home soon?" She finally grasped the gist of what the little boy was saying to her. Brennan sat up, shaking her head to clear the cobwebs. "I need to go. Thank you, Jared."

She was looking around for her heels when Jared let out a cry of dismay at her words. "You're leaving? But Bones, don't you want to see Seeley? He brought you here last night. You were pretty tired."

"No… no, I need to leave," Brennan said, finally spotting her heels neatly lined up at the foot of the bed. A sense of urgency propelled her to them, and she jammed them on her feet before heading to the door.

She made the mistake of glancing back at the boy, who looked about ready to cry himself. _Damn._

"Is it because I woke you up?" the little boy murmured softly, digging his toe into the carpet. "'Cause I'm sorry. I just wanted to talk to you. Seeley never brings home any girls."

Heaving a sigh, Brennan turned away from the door. "Jared, no, of course not. I'm not mad at you. I just need to leave."

A thought occurred to her that maybe Jared had more insight into what happened last night than she did. She thought about putting the issue delicately, but unfortunately, bluntly was all that came out.

"Jared," she hesitated and then blundered on. "When did I get here?"

Pleased with a question to answer and her apparent acquiescence to stay, Jared beamed at her, and patted the seat next to him on the bed. As she moved back toward that terrifying bed, her quick mind took in the ancient looking kitchen in one corner, and the two beds shoved up against opposite walls. A battered chest of drawers separated the two, and part of the floor was taken up by a spray of little green army men and a peeling checkerboard.

"Well, I was supposed to be asleep but Seeley's phone woke me up really late last night," Jared began. "He was still awake doing his homework, but he was pretty mad. He left the apartment and I went back to sleep. But he woke me up when he came to sleep in my bed with me. He let you have his, even though he's way too big for my bed and you're awfully little," Jared said, a little surprised at this apparent lack of foresight on his older brother's behalf. "You really should have just shared his bed. It's big enough."

Brennan digested this information, an unpleasant picture forming in her mind. She vaguely remembered Booth now, and the terrible fury on his face as he pulled Chase—_Chase!_—off of her.

How stupid could she be? How naïve to think that Chase Duranceau was really interested in getting to know her better. A hot flush of embarrassment covered her cheeks, along with a healthy tinge of anger.

Just then, a key sounded in the lock, and Brennan's stomach dropped to her feet.

Booth was back.

_Damn. _


	2. Chapter 2

Driving back from early morning weights, Booth let out a jaw-popping yawn as he steered his ancient Camry past the well-manicured lawns of Juniper Valley University. The further he drove, the slummier the neighborhood grew, which concerned him almost every time he drove the familiar route.

Damnit, he really wished he could provide better for Jared. He paid an elderly neighbor to watch him after school until Booth could get home from practice and his job, but he hated leaving Jared alone so much. He'd quit hockey if his scholarship wasn't the only thing paying his school bills, but he knew that if he ever wanted to raise enough money to get Jared out of this god-forsaken town he needed that stupid diploma. He was _so close_.

So close to tearing Jared away from crappy apartments and freaking ghosts of the past. It had only been a year since the accident that had taken their mother from them, and he knew Jared still missed her like crazy.

Hell, Booth still missed her like crazy.

When his father had up and left it was good riddance—Booth had lost count of the times he had taken the brunt of his father's drunken and violent grief. But now he was struggling to keep up juggling all of his new responsibilities—and he was terrified that the courts might try and take his brother from him.

He'd begun talking to a few of the professors in the law school about retaining legal guardianship, but he was still keeping things low profile—he'd run if he had to, but he wasn't letting anyone take his kid brother from his side.

The dark thoughts gave way slightly when he thought about the scene that might greet him as he parked the car and looked up at the door to their place.

Temperance Brennan. Probably with one hell of a hangover. He chuckled as he grabbed his gym bag, running fingers through his shower-damp hair. There was no doubt in his mind that Jared would have chatted her ear off by now.

The kid had an alarming weakness for women. As Booth slid the key into the lock, he grinned slightly, hearing Jared's little-kid voice talking a mile a minute. At least Jared was proving to have the same great taste as his brother.

When the door gave way, after a short nudge from Booth's shoulder --_he really needed to fix the door—_Booth was greeted with a sight that he couldn't help but smile at.

Brennan sat on his bed, wide-eyed, while Jared leaned possessively close on one side, looking at the door with a cheeky grin. Booth's eyes raked over his tutor, from her tousled bed head to her bare feet resting on the floor—pink toenails.

She did have a wild and crazy side after all, hallelujah.

Although after last night, all he wanted to do was lock her away from every male of the species except himself. And maybe his little brother, although the way Jared was staring at her, like she'd hung the moon, and the stars too, for good measure, made him consider kicking him out of the fictitious equation. The good-natured thought process inevitably gave way to a hot thread of anger as he took in her still-ripped blouse.

_Bastard. _He was forever indebted to Finley for calling him. He didn't like to imagine Brennan with that freaking poser, Chase Smart-ass Duranceau. The image alone made him grit his teeth and clench his hands to his sides, the only concessions to his rage. Though his blood was racing hot and angry through his veins, Booth's voice came out gently.

"Good morning, Brennan. You feel okay? Sleep well?" He began to walk over to the pair on the bed, hesitating somewhat when he saw Brennan's eyes widen even further. Damn, but he hated that vulnerable look in her eyes. In that instant he would have traded just about anything to chase the shadows from those guileless baby blues.

"I—" Brennan paused. A shaft of sunlight shifted from the window over her eyes, and in the golden spray she composed herself. Booth watched, fascinated, at the transformation. She straightened her spine, her chin jutting up in defiance.

_Beautiful._

Now why had he gone and thought that?

"Bones is just fine, Seel," Jared piped up, nodding enthusiastically at his older brother.

"Bones?" Booth cocked his head slightly, indicating his question.

"Your brother gave me a nickname because _his _brother neglected to inform him of my true name, " Brennan said primly. Booth could glimpse her armor going back up as she retreated into the comfort and familiarity of her favorite pastime, sniping at him. As long as she wasn't looking at him with that wounded stare, he relished the change. If their banter was what it took to keep her mind off of her drunken exploits, who was he to deny her?

Especially because their bickering just came pretty darn naturally. She was infuriating, but refreshing. She was so many things in such a tiny little frame—headstrong, a genius… a pain in the ass.

"Bones," Booth rolled the name on his tongue, weighing it seriously. "I like it. Great job, bud."

Jared gave him one of the mega-watt smiles that had half the girls in his class following him around like a gaggle of geese and Booth returned it with his own brand of charm smile.

"Up high!" Jared cried, raising his hand for a high five.

Booth obliged, smacking their hands together in a gentle, but firm high five.

"On the side," Booth followed directions, high fiving his brother left and right until Jared put his little palm face up, grinning like a madman.

"Down low," Jared taunted, waving his palm enticingly. Aware of the joke, Booth nevertheless attempted to high five him again, chuckling at Jared's delighted squeal when he yanked his hand back at the last minute. "Too slow!"

"Got you good, Seeley. I got you good."

"Sure did, bud. I don't know how you always get me with that one. One day, I'm going to catch that last one and _you'll _be the slow one. You all set for school? Did you pack your lunch?" Jared nodded, gesturing to his green knapsack on the floor. Booth gave him a hardened stare. "Did you put a fruit in it like I've been asking you to?"

Heaving a sigh, Jared hopped off of the bed and made his way to the refrigerator, grumbling. "I'll grab an apple. HAPPY?"

"Yes."

The long-suffering 9-year-old grabbed an apple off a shelf in the fridge, polishing it against his shirt before chucking the fruit unceremoniously in his backpack.

Turning away from his brother, Booth faced his quiet houseguest. She didn't appear to respond well to his concern, so Booth kept his tone light and cocky—the way he knew she hated.

"So, _Bones_, how's the head?"

At the death glare she gave him, Booth chuckled, reaching into the cabinet behind him to pull out a bottle of Advil. "Here, take two of these."

She ignored his outstretched hand. "I'd like to go home now, thank you," she said stiffly.

Booth glanced at the digital time display on his cell phone and grimaced. Almost nine. "And I'd love to take you, but you're going to have to wait. I need to get Jared to school."

"I'll walk."

Booth froze in the middle of slinging Jared's backpack over his shoulder and turned to face her. "_No, _Brennan. Don't walk. Please." The serious note in his voice must have actually pierced her wall of obliviousness, because she sobered, the confidence in her eyes dulling slightly before sparking back to life.

"Seriously, Bren. It's a dangerous neighborhood here, okay? Let me get Jared to school and I'll come home and drive you anywhere you want to go, okay?"

Brennan glared at him but finally nodded.

"Promise me," Booth pressed.

"I promise," Brennan finally murmured. Booth smiled then, judging her sincere in her words.

"Thanks, Bones. Listen, you can take a shower if you want. Just grab one of my T-shirts. I'll deduct the cost from my lessons."

Brennan rolled her eyes. "Your lessons are free, you dumb jock. The hockey team pays for _everything._ Honestly, if the forensics department got half the money the hockey team--"

Satisfied that she was okay and warming to a tangent, Booth pulled Jared out the door, rolling his eyes and ignoring Jared's plaintive wails that _he wasn't done talking to Bones, yet!_ He locked the door behind him, outright laughing when he heard Brennan's outraged gasp through the thin wood of the door that he had dared leave in the middle of her tirade.

As he turned to walk to their car with Jared, he was surprised to see Jared fumbling with the door lock, a mutinous expression on his face.

"Easy, tiger, fine, do you really need to talk to Brennan again?" Booth asked, assisting Jared in reopening the door.

Jared just nodded, and when the door opened, he flew inside.

Booth watched with a raised eyebrow as his younger brother hurled himself toward Brennan, skidding to a stop right in front of her. He grabbed her hands, earnestly shaking them.

"Bones, Bones," Jared gasped, "I needed to ask you something. Seeley almost didn't let me come back in!"

Brennan shot Booth an appalled glare over Jared's head.

What? He was just trying to get the kid to school on time for Christ's sake! When had he become the bad guy in this equation?

"What is it, Jared?" Brennan asked, reaching a tentative hand down to smooth some of Jared's cowlick. Booth noticed, his heart warming toward his headstrong, trouble-making tutor.

"My birthday's tomorrow and my birthday party's on Saturday. Please come?"

Brennan's startled gaze flew to Booth's, who shrugged at her. Both Booth men awaited her answer as she stuttered.

"I—I, well, um, okay," she pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, and Booth grinned at her.

"Nice, Bones," he murmured, testing out her nickname again on his tongue.

"Don't call me Bones, Booth," she spat at him. Booth just laughed, enjoying the rise it got out of her. She didn't appear to care when Jared called her it, but boy did her hackles rise when he did.

Jared just cheered, thrilled with the new development in his birthday plans. Booth glanced at his clock and stifled a curse.

"JARED. SCHOOL. _Now."_

* * *

After the door crashed shut behind them, Brennan finally stood up, trying to take everything in. How on earth had she gotten to this point in her life? It had been the strangest morning she could ever remember.

From Jared's innocent observations, Booth's own word choice, and her tentative memories, she had surmised the gist of what had happened last night.

First, she had only agreed to go that party Angela wanted to go too because Chase had asked her in class if she would be there…

Angela! Shit, her friend must be panicked. Fumbling for her cell phone, Brennan grabbed it off the floor and flicked it off silent.

Forty-four missed calls and twenty-three new voice messages.

Yes, Angela was pissed. Brennan scrolled through her contacts to Angela's number—skipping past Booth's name, incidentally._ Why did she had that in her phone, anyway?_

"BRENNAN?" Angela answered before the first ring had even gone through. "Tempe, where the hell have you been? Are you okay? I was about the call the police!"

"I'm fine, Ange," she said, her stomach calming slightly at her friend's familiar voice.

"What happened last night? I looked for you at that party, but all I could figure out was that people last saw you with Chase, and then you were gone and he was sporting the biggest shiner I've ever set my eyes on."

"Really?" Brennan frowned, trying to piece together her memories of last night. She did recall Chase. He kept pushing glasses of spiked punch at her, and touching her more and more as the night went on. That, she remembered. It had been flattering… at first. Then all she remembered was a vague sense of disgust and bewilderment.

Wasn't she supposed to like it? The more and more he touched her, the less and less she did. Brennan did remember thinking that she needed to consult with Angela about that. Then, pain, almost, as Chase was getting more aggressive…

Brennan's fingers flew to the rent fabric of her blouse.

A crash, and then the touching, grabbing hands were gone and she was being lifted like she weighed absolutely nothing. These hands were gentle, warm, and she remembered a rough voice at her ear, soothing despite its ragged quality.

"Yes, don't you remember? You must have been there, right?" Angela's voice cut into Brennan's musings. "But Brennan, please, set my mind at ease. A couple of girls were saying that_ loser_ showed up at the party right around the time of Chase's mystery attack," Angela said, her voice hushing. "Did _he _have something to do with this? Poor Chase is really hurting."

The blood chilled in Brennan's veins at her friend's words. But she had to be sure, she wasn't known for picking up all the subtle clues and hints others threw casually into conversation.

"Angela, what loser?"

"Duh, Brennan, come on. Seeley Booth. That dumb-as-rocks chump you tutor? That boy _invented _the phrase wrong side of the tracks."

Brennan furrowed her brow as she looked outside the window for railroad tracks.

"Angela, I don't know what you're talking about, but there are no tracks here."

"No tracks—BRENNAN? Where did you say you were?"

Brennan ignored her friend for a minute, a hot flood of shame coursing through her. Was that how Booth was viewed? As a… loser? Because he was poor?

Brennan thought back to their tutoring sessions, forcing herself to remember in as much detail as she could. The first time she had set eyes on him, he had appealed to her on every physical level. She made herself remember her first impression of him, striding across the stacks of books in the library like he owned the place. His toffee-colored eyes were rimmed in dark espresso, glittering in the dim light of the library. Hair darker than sin brushed too-long over his forehead, though he had cut it shorter since their first meeting.

Yes, he had been overwhelmingly handsome, but as soon as he had opened his mouth, Brennan knew that she found him infuriating. He was everything that she disliked in a man: brash, too confident, too… big.

But he had proven to be intelligent, which she couldn't help but respect, and though cocky, he really was quite kind.

Brennan realized Angela was still talking to her and she cut her off, disliking the words coming out of her friend's mouth.

Booth was not a loser.

Murmuring a distracted goodbye, Brennan hung up the phone, feeling uneasy and unsure.

Those appeared to be the feelings of the day, Brennan sighed. She glanced at the door and thought about walking home, but suddenly she was tired again, and she didn't feel like getting her bearings enough to manage the long walk home.

She thought back to Booth's words, inviting her to take a shower. Shrugging, Brennan decided to take advantage of his offer. If she looked as grimy as she felt, it was no wonder she appealed so much to a rambunctious 9-year-old.

She approached the chest of drawers between the beds, pulling open the top drawer. Boxers and underwear. Brennan bit her lip and shut the drawer quickly, retracting the hand that had crept up to almost run her fingers across them.

Her cheeks burning in a light kind of embarrassment at her unconscious movement, Brennan opened the next drawer and found stacks of T-shirts, neatly folded, both man and little boy sized.

She reached toward Jared's shirts, resting her fingertips atop them. She could probably fit in his clothes much more easily than she'd fit in Booth's. A shirt from Booth would be huge on her, while one from Jared would probably almost fit.

Making her decision, Brennan snatched one of Booth's T-shirts, ignoring rationality for one of the few times in her life thus far. Clutching her prize to her chest, Brennan scurried across the room, half expecting Booth to be standing in the corner, chuckling in that infuriatingly attractive way he had. She reached the only other door in the room, correctly assuming it to be the bathroom.

She firmly locked the door behind her, turning the knob on the shower and giving herself a critical once over in the mirror while the water heated.

She looked a little flushed, and her hair was a mess. Brennan peeled off last night's clothing, breathing a sigh of relief to be out of the tight, uncomfortable outfit. Naked, she stuck her hand under the stream of water, judging it to be nearly hot enough. Just a few more seconds to go.

Before she could convince herself otherwise, Brennan grabbed Booth's shirt, sitting innocuously on the sink and eyeballed the door, making sure it was locked. She pulled the well-worn material over her head, letting the shirt fall over her nude body.

It came down to a little past mid-thigh, and Brennan shivered at the shockingly intimate feel of the soft cotton against her sore breasts and belly. With her tousled bed-head and his shirt draped across her frame…

Shaking her head at the flight of fancy, Brennan ripped the shirt from her body and threw it in a ball on the floor. She yanked the shower curtain back and jumped in, hissing when the steaming water burned her skin.

She kept it hot for a few seconds more though, as a punishment.

_Thou shalt not think lustfully about one's student._

_

* * *

_

** some clarifications I realize I need to address:

I know people might be a little concerned by Angela's reaction to Booth. I just want you guys to consider, she's going off rumors, and, as a reviewer said... she hasn't had a chance to be charmed by Booth yet. :)

Also, regarding Brennan's history and her own "wrong side of the tracks"ishness... I haven't fully decided on Brennan's backstory, but I am sure that in this story, there will be a bit of a role reversal. Booth will come from the more shattered homelife and Brennan's will be much more conventional. Anyway, I hope this clears up any issues people might be having!

**Hello everyone! The response to this story seriously overwhelmed me. I pretty much just checked my email repeatedly all day Tuesday, slack-jawed and amazed. I'm not even sure how I managed to find enough time to write out another chapter so fast, but your reviews really kept me on the straight and narrow! I've been inundated with tests lately, but I'm finally catching a break. Spring break, to be exact. :) I'll be gone for a week, but I'll try and use my vacation time to write out a few chapters.**

**Really, though, I'm just humbled by the kind things everyone has said to me. I hope this chapter can live up to the hype. It feels wonderful to stretch my writing muscles again, and Lord knows I miss Bones more than anything. This hiatus has gone on long enough, thankyouverymuch! **

**Also, I have some thoughts on where this story is heading, but if there is anything you'd like to see written in... well, feel free to mention it in a review. I can't make any promises, but ya'll are the customers. :) So to speak, anyway. For example, I'm a sucker for a story with a damsel in distress. Unfortunately, Bones is the antithesis of a damsel in distress, so I'll have to make due with an overprotective Booth, an exasperated Brennan and ideally, a little bit of jealousy. And some good, 'ol fashion college lust. All in all, good things to come. :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**To my readers. A million, hundred billion apologies for my long absence. I'm so, unbelievably sorry. I really am. Some of ya'll sent the nicest messages to me and I appreciate every single one. I really shouldn't have started this story in the middle of the school year when I had so little time. I'm so sorry. For a while things just seemed to be falling down around my ears. My brother is nursing a broken heart, finals were looming and a close friend of the family recently developed stage 4 cancer that just took precedence over all other things. I also was fighting a pretty rough case of writer's block on this one. I just fleshed out an outline for this that will hopefully prevent that from happening ever again. Please know that the readers of this story have been the most considerate, patient readers I've ever met and I'm so grateful and so sorry for my long delay in posting. But on the up side, they called Booth a white knight in one of the more recent episodes, I forget which one, and it just made me giddy. :) Thanks again for your patience and sweet words, to everyone. **

**-Laura**

CHAPTER 3

Back in her own apartment, away from one strangely enticing bad boy and his endearing little boy sidekick, Brennan lay curled in her bed sheets and let out a moan.

Eyes fluttering in sleep, Brennan delved through the layers of her dream, slicing through hot colors and pastel glowing edges, past music too fast and at once too slow, and finally to her.

And him.

His skin is golden in the ethereal light, and it's like she's watching herself. Brennan sees her own hands, pale and soft skimming along tan shoulder blades, softly, softly, then rough. His own hands cup her face, kissing her with passion, their chins and noses bumping.

He draws back and she sees him—warm brown eyes and spiky brown hair, mussed and tousled. She admires his strong cheekbones, and the muscle threading through his upper torso.

_Booth._

_Yes, Booth. Mmm…_

Suddenly, Angela is there, looming behind Booth's shoulder. Brennan's eyes widen, and she pushes him back. She might as well have tapped a brick wall for all it did to him. Eyes locked on Angela's, she watched her best friend shake her head with disapproval.

"Come on, Brennan. This one's a bad boy. And not in the good way."

She suddenly realizes that she's been pushing Booth away, and he isn't moving. Her limbs strain against the effort, but he won't budge. Breath coming faster, Brennan tries to step backward, hitting the wall.

Trapped.

An involuntary whimper falls from her throat. _Booth._ Brennan looked up for the first time since spotting Angela and she realizes that it isn't Booth at all.

_No, Chase._

She feel his mouth on hers again, but this time it isn't gentle. Bruising kisses, and she's unable to get away.

_No, Chase, no. _

Willing strength to come, Brennan tries again to shove him away, but her mind is getting fuzzy and her limbs aren't working properly. She feels his hands at her blouse and she's powerless to stop him.

She can see Angela in the background, shaking her head.

"Angela, help," she cries, straining futilely against Chase's brawn.

There's a loud crack and Chase is gone.

Angela is gone.

Booth is gone.

Blinking, Brennan takes a cautious step away from the wall, trying to focus despite the swirling mess of colors and noise around her.

"Bones?"

Whirling around, Brennan sees Jared sitting in the corner, tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes. Dropping to her knees, she reaches a hesitant hand out to stroke Jared's hair.

"You missed my birthday," Jared said plaintively. The words are innocuous enough, but Brennan can't miss the wild fear in his eyes. She follows Jared's eyeline and starts when she sees Booth crumpled on the floor.

"Booth…"

Rushing to him, her breath catches violently in her throat at the contusions littering his face and body. Blood pools below him, viscous and a stark vermillion against his ashen face.

Tears choking her own throat, Brennan turns helplessly to Jared, Booth's blood painting her fingertips.

"You forgot my birthday," Jared said again, sighing.

Brennan woke with a start, gasping for air. Her heart hammered uncomfortably fast in her chest, dried tears sticky on her face.

Taking a deep breath, Brennan shoved her hair out of her face and turned on the bedside lamp, squinting in the sudden brightness.

She looked like a mess. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had a nightmare. Still feeling a little off balanced, Brennan glanced at the clock. It was 3 a.m.

Jared's birthday.

Yesterday, Booth had returned to his apartment to find her shyly tucking his shirt into her jeans, her streaky makeup gone and her hair damp from the shower.

After giving him a stuttering thanks, he took her home. They were mostly quiet in the car ride until they turned onto her street.

"I can't make tutoring tomorrow," he had said, nudging the steering wheel as he steered around the parked cars on her street.

Brennan nodded, her hands twisting nervously in her lap. She didn't like this nervous, quiet side of herself. It was much easier when Booth was being his normal cocky self. She knew how to spar with him. She wasn't quite sure how to simply be. He caught her eye just then and he gave her a crooked grin.

"Hey, don't look so alarmed. You'll still have your star pupil." Booth's eyes twinkled and Brennan felt like a weight had just been lifted off her chest. This was the roguish character she knew how to deal with. It was much easier to think of Booth as a student than as a man. "It's Jared's birthday tomorrow. The party with his friends is on Saturday, but you know how important the birthday DAY is."

"Yes, I'm aware of the cultural significance, although anthropologically speaking, it's somewhat irrational to expect gifts to celebrate one's birth. It wasn't like the child had any say in the day."

"Thanks for sucking the magic out of birthdays, Bones, Jesus. Next are you going to try and convince Jared that Santa's not real?"

"You still believe that Santa—Oh, I see. Not you, per say. Jared. He still believes."

"What, no lecture on the anthological whatnot of believing in Santa Claus?"

Brennan shrugged and shook her head. "I love Christmas."

Booth laughed aloud, slamming his hand down on the steering wheel and shooting her a look filled with affection. "Hot damn, the girl's human."

Scowling, Brennan shoved him. "Two hour lesson on Monday to make up for this one, Booth."

"Can't wait, Bones."

"What did I tell you about that ridiculous nickname?"

Booth shook his head. "How come the munchkin can call you Bones and I can't?"

"Because the munchkin is a child. You are not." Brennan thought about this for a second before chuckling a little and amending, "Well, you're not a child by _age._"

"Thanks, Bones. Hey, listen, I know you told J that you'd come to his thing on Saturday which is great," Booth began, running a distracted hand through his hair as he pulled the car to a stop in front of her house. "I could definitely use the help corralling the little monsters."

"Of course. I mean… because he asked me," Brennan said quickly, glancing down at herself in Booth's T-shirt like she suddenly just remember she had it on. "And I quite like your brother."

Booth beamed. "That's great, Brennan. He's the best kid ever. Listen, we're going to go do some birthday stuff tomorrow—ice cream, movie, whatever. You're welcome to come if you want."

For a brief, glimmering instant, Brennan was about to say yes. She took in Booth's kind eyes, his straight white teeth, the way he grinned when he talked about his kid brother.

Her thoughts then turned, just as abruptly, to Angela condemning him over the phone, to his dangerous smile and the terrible look on his face when he burst into the room and ripped Chase Duranceau off of her.

And then the brief image of herself in Booth's soft T-shirt, staring at herself in the mirror with tousled hair and an expression she barely recognized on her face.

"N-no, thanks, Booth. I'll just see you on Saturday, okay? I'll help with his party. We can reschedule tutoring."

She had been out of the car and into the modest brick house before the car door had even slammed shut behind her.

Brennan sighed, cursing the guilt that had kept her awake half the night. She just kept seeing Jared's freckled face, and envisioning all the work his older brother had to put in to make their little shabby room a home. He was practically raising a child.

Brennan didn't know the whole story, but she had heard rumors. It had been said that Booth's mother had died in a car wreck, and that his father had gone mad with grief. All she knew about him was that he played hockey like a man possessed, he studied hard to keep up in his classes, and he somehow had to manage to make ends meet while making a home for Jared.

Groaning in frustration, Brennan grabbed her cell phone and dialed Booth's number before she could convince herself otherwise.

"H'lo?" His voice answering the phone was deliciously rough, intimate. It warmed her to her core, though she quickly quenched those illogical feelings.

"Booth," she said, her voice faltering as she looked at the clock. It was 3 a.m.

"Bones?" He sounded much more alert now. "Bones, hey, you okay? Is something wrong?"

Brennan shook her head, forgetting for a minute that he couldn't see her. "No, no, she was quick to reassure him. "I just wanted to let you know that I'll come celebrate Jared's birthday with you and him tomorrow."

She could hear the wry amusement soak his sleepy tone. "Mmm… Thanks Bones. You couldn't have waited until tomorrow to let me know?"

Flushing though he couldn't see her, Brennan regardless put some steel into her voice. "I had no idea you would be asleep. You're in _college_. The night's still young."

"Says Miss Librarian."

"I've never held that position."

"You're feisty, anyone ever tell you that?" He laughed, keeping his voice quiet.

Brennan stiffened. "No," she said starchily. "Not that I can recall."

"Well you are. And Jared's going to be excited, Brennan, thanks."

"You're welcome. I find him an enjoyable presence."

"I'll be sure to let him know," he said dryly, grinning to himself over the phone and glancing across the room at the boy in question. Jared was sprawled across the covers, mouth open, snoring like a train.

"Well, I'll let you get back to your sleep," Brennan paused, unable to keep herself from the uncharacteristic urge to ruffle his feathers. "I'll get back to my wild party."

Booth's eyes widened for a brief moment before he listened and heard only silence in the background. "Some party, huh, Bones? What'd you do, invite some cadavers from the forensic department?"

"Very funny. I'm hanging up now."

"I'll pick you up at three tomorrow and we can go get Jared from school, okay?"

"Fine."

"Fine."

Booth couldn't stop grinning as he hung up his phone and flopped back down on the pillow.

* * *

"Time for presents, Squirt," Booth grinned at his little brother over the heaping ice cream sundae that dominated the table of the diner. Jared let out a whoop that had some of the other patrons glancing over at the table, hiding their smiles.

Brennan sat to his left, squishing him into the small booth. He had no idea why he hadn't protested and taken the outside, but for some reason he was finding he didn't mind being crowded by one Temperance Brennan. Taking advantage of their close quarters, he nudged her leg with his.

"Bren, can you move for a second so I can get the presents in the car?"

She nodded, but when he stood, she grabbed his arm, pulling him to the side with a worried frown. "Booth, I haven't gotten him anything yet. I'm so sorry. Do you think he'll ever be able to forgive me?"

He looked at her like she was crazy. His crazy, brilliant lab tutor. How did she not know that she had already given both of them the best present? Past birthdays usually entailed seeing a movie and then the biggest ice cream sundae in the world.

Today had been… Booth trailed off, looking at Brennan, who was still worrying her lip. He bent his head down and shook his head. "Look, Bones," he said a little roughly, emphasizing the name Jared had called her all day. "You made this day wonderful for my little brother. I'll never forget that. You're a saint."

With that, Booth ruffled the hair on Jared's head and strode out to the parking lot where he had Jared's stack of presents in the trunk.

He had picked Brennan up at three, just like he promised, and she had proceeded to start the day off with a bang when she gave him a sweet smile and showed him the itinerary of events she had planned.

He had her read it to him as he drove, his jaw dropping incrementally with each new item on the list.

First, the Jeffersonian, where she interned, for a tour of the not-yet-open-to-the-public Incan mummy exhibit. She earnestly explained that she had studied up on the lore so she could have some boy-friendly, interesting mummy stories to entertain them.

While he was still sputtering in amazement at her thoughtfulness, she had blown his mind with number two on her damn list. Three tickets to the Nationals game. Besides hockey, baseball was Booth's favorite sport, and Jared loved the different things to do at the game. They had eaten hot dogs, which Booth had practically had to battle Brennan to pay for, and Jared charmed everyone he encountered. Jared played the variety of games outside the stands, winning T-shirts and baseballs at beanbag tosses and wheel spins. Then, during the seventh inning stretch, Jared had turned to him with stars in his eyes when the name Jared Booth appeared on the screen and the crowd sang happy birthday.

Wordlessly, he had gripped Brennan's hand, his heart aching at the sight of Jared laughing and cheering and hamming up the crowd. Brennan had turned to him then, a shy smile on her face that burst into a shout of laughter when he swept her up in his arms for a bear hug.

Shaking his head to dispel the memories, Booth grunted as he hefted the bag with Jared's presents. And she thought she hadn't given Jared a present? God, she had just about given Jared the world. One perfect day. It was priceless.

As Booth walked from the car to the front, he saw them through the clear panes of glass near the booth. The ice cream lay in a melting heap before them as both Brennan and Jared smashed their spoons together, play fighting for the next bite.

Running a hand through his hair and expelling a big breath, Booth pushed open the door and came to stand at their table.

"Children," he drawled, shooting Brennan a lazy smile that did nothing to reprimand her.

She scooted over on the bench, patting the seat next to her. Jared nearly crawled across the table, elbows in the ice cream as he strained to see into the bag of presents.

"Calm down!" Booth laughed, handing the first of his presents to Jared. The words had barely left his throat when Jared attacked the square package like a wildcat, wrapping paper floating to the table like confetti.

"Awesome!" Jared exclaimed, his voice rising in excitement. "The Iron Man VOICE CHANGER." He picked up the big helmet and pressed the demo button, shrieking with laughter when his voice came out distorted.

Booth grinned at his brother's excitement, now glad that he had spent the extra hours working to splurge a little for his brother's presents. There were a few other presents in the bag, but one package contained clothes, so he knew that Jared would wholly discount that as even being a present. Besides the clothing, he thought Jared would enjoy the Legos, the toy spy gear, some strange trading cards and the baseball cap he had picked up on the sly at the Nationals game.

When they were finally on their way home, Jared fell asleep the moment he got into the car, chattering wildly one moment, voice distorted from his new present, and fast asleep the next.

They drove in silence for a while, as Booth steered the car toward the suburbs near the university. "Do you want to come watch a movie over at our place?" Booth finally blurted, suddenly anxious at the thought of her leaving.

Brennan thought about it for a minute, weighing the stack of homework she had neglected this morning while planning and calling in favors for Jared's birthday instead. She finally nodded and he smiled, pleased.

When they got inside, he carried Jared to bed and let Brennan pick a movie.

"You're just full of surprises, aren't you?" He asked in surprise when she settled on a movie. They were sitting on opposite ends of the ratty couch, but the damn thing dipped in the middle, sliding her closer to him.

"_The Mummy, _in honor of the exhibit today," she explained somewhat self consciously.

He smiled and settled in next to her, eager to spend the next two hours arguing about the improbability of the movie. Ten minutes into it, though, she was fast asleep, gravity slipping her cheek against his shoulder.

Booth's jaw clenched to contain the unfamiliar feelings coursing through him. He couldn't help but shake the feeling that he needed to release her _right now_ lest she sully her reputation even further by socializing with him.

She murmured into his shoulder then, and he tightened his grip, running his callused fingers up the smooth skin of her upper arm. He watched the rest of the movie through unseeing eyes, wholly focused on the innocent girl curled up next to him.

_It was just a movie and his kid brother's birthday. It didn't mean anything. Nothing at all. _


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4**

Around 1 a.m., as the credits were rolling, Booth debated whether to move her. He didn't like leaving Jared alone, which meant he'd had to sling two unconscious people in the car, cart her to her apartment, potentially deal with her roommate and then drive one grouchy birthday boy back home.

Hmm… definitely not. Especially when she was so warm and close. He trailed his fingers gently through her hair, edging the blanket up closer on her lap.

She really was uncommonly pretty. Sometimes she'd sit there and spout eight syllable words off her lips, her eyes flashing with that intellect he found so appealing and his mind would have no idea what she was saying, but his heart did. She was so pure in her love for science, in her earnest desire to make him understand, and to help. He'd never met anyone so prickly who so loved to help. She was fascinating, and her layers were finally unpeeling.

A buzz caught his attention, interrupting her musings, and he noticed her phone sticking out of her purse on the floor. It had been buzzing with some regularity throughout the movie, and he suddenly realized that she might have people looking out for her who might view their sleeping arrangements differently than he did.

He hesitated for a minute before picking up the phone and looking at the screen.

Angela Montenegro.

Brennan had mentioned her before, her roommate, and he vaguely remembered her once from when she picked Brennan up after one of their study sessions. She was pretty, forceful and somewhat frightening. He considered letting it go to voicemail, but it looked like she had called a few times.

Without further thought he stood from the couch, answering the phone in a low voice. He didn't want to wake the two sleeping, though he needn't have worried. Jared snored like a train and Brennan apparently slept like the dead. He didn't think she'd moved in the entire two hours the movie had played.

"Hello?" He said softly.

"Where the hell is Tempe and who the hell are you?" the spitfire voice on the other end of the phone rang out, spitting venom.

"Hey, relax, it's okay. Angela, right? Brennan's roommate? It's Seeley Booth… we met once."

"Yes, and I've heard so much about you," she spat at him. "Is she okay? Bring her home right now. Why isn't she answering her own phone?"

A little shocked at the acrimony flowing his way, Booth frowned. "She's fine. Look Angela, she's asleep. We were watching a movie. I don't want to wake her."

He could hear Angela breathing on the other end of the phone, but otherwise she was silent. Swallowing awkwardly, Booth tried to frame the question forefront on his mind.

"Uh, Angela, have I… done anything to offend you?"

He heard her sigh, almost as if weighing what she wanted to reveal to him.

"Look, Seeley, or Booth, or whatever you like to be called, long story short, I know your type. And I know you. I saw you interacting with Tempe when I came to pick her up. You were ragging on her, and I don't appreciate her being taken advantage of by some punk on the hockey team."

Booth's face darkened. "Taking advantage of her? You obviously have your men mixed up. Was I the one who nearly raped her at your stupid party? Do you know how dangerous a man like Duranceau can be? Drunk, and stupid and too good looking for his own good?"

"Like you're such a paragon of perfection. Chase has never been anything but civil and you got in a fight and nearly knocked him unconscious. For what? He told me that you were hurting Tempe."

"That's a lie, Angela," Booth hissed. "For Brennan's sake, you need to believe me. Chase Duranceau was taking advantage of her at that party. Whatever he's told you, it's a lie, okay? A _lie._"

Angela sobered somewhat at his words, hearing the blunt honestly behind them.

"Okay, fine, I believe you Booth. I, um, well, I guess I owe you an apology about that."

Booth nodded, relieved. He was about to continue when Angela finished.

"But that doesn't mean I still don't know about your sexual exploits. I don't know what's rumor and innuendo and what's fact, but Tempe's an innocent, Booth. Innocent. And you are not. That much I'm sure of. She's been hurt before. Please don't set her up for another fall."

"Fall?" He probed, uncomfortable with Angela's frank assessment of his character.

Angela's voice grew softer, like she had lost the anger that starched her spine. "It's not my place, Booth. I realize I'm being harsh to you. I'm truly sorry about tarring you with the same brush as some of the men who have come before you, but Tempe's my best friend. She's probably the most honest, least deceptive person you're ever going to meet. And if what you've said is right, I think I'm going to have to go find Duranceau and kick him in the balls."

Booth snorted at the picture, before concern replaced his amusement. "Don't go after him alone, Angela. He won't be bothering anyone for a while yet."

"Why do you have to sound so nice on the phone, Booth?" Angela finally said in a prickly voice. "It was easier to hate you before."

"I'm still not sure why you hate me."

"I don't. Look, I'm just protective of her, okay Booth? I'm not going to tell you everything, but if you're spending a lot of time with her, I guess you deserve to know a little bit. Brennan's family's gone through some rough times. It's made her a little harder to get to know. I've heard about all the women you've slept with and I don't want you thinking you can notch your bedpost with Tempe's name."

"Rumors aren't always true. And I'm not the same man I used to be," Booth said grimly, hating the truth that rang in her words. When he had started college here four years ago, he'd been invincible.

Hockey had been his life, and girls had always liked his sideways grin and dark looks. He'd been too free with beer, too free with girls and too lax with his schoolwork. He'd never been the terror he knew Chase Duranceau to be, but was that any consolation? He'd slept with girls he didn't love, though he'd always known they'd wanted it. He didn't blame Angela for her dislike. He hated himself for some of the same reasons.

If he'd been home more, he might have prevented some of his father's tyranny.

After his mother had died and their father had left, Booth had had to grow up fast, but he didn't regret the man it had turned him into. The path his former self had been trekking on had been easy and free, and it had turned him into someone he disliked. He worked hard now, but he had a goal now. Get Jared out.

Come graduation, he was taking a job somewhere else, somewhere no one knew his name, or that his father was a drunk who had left. Jared could start school in a safe neighborhood, and Booth could actually go to his baseball games instead of having to listen to recaps at night. He wouldn't have to balance school and work and practice, and maybe his life would finally settle down.

Maybe he could finally stop running.

"I'm not the same person I used to be, Angela," he repeated again. "Brennan's going to sleep here tonight, okay? It's late. I'm taking the couch."

"Okay, okay. Thanks for taking care of her, Booth."

"My pleasure."

He hung up the phone, feeling drained. Picking Brennan up in his arms, he moved her to his bed, pulling the blankets up to her chin and pushing her bangs from her eyes. She looked angelic lying there, guileless and pure.

He yanked a pillow off the floor and headed to the sofa, curling up in the blanket she had just vacated. It smelled like her, sweet and homey. Closing his eyes against her goodness and his own faults, it took him a long time to fall asleep.

* * *

When Booth dropped her off the next morning, he promised to be back at four so she could help him set up for Jared's birthday. She couldn't help but smile at the boys' enthusiasm as they explained their plans on the way, Jared jabbering a mile a minute and Booth interjecting when Jared's words started to slur together in his haste.

"And we're going to play Capture the Flag!" Jared piped up from the backseat. Brennan turned in the front seat to face him, hard pressed to keep her expression neutral when faced with such rambunctious cheer. "I invited my whole class to come, even though I didn't want to invite _everyone,_" Jared explained seriously. "Seeley made me though. I didn't want to invite Jenny McCoy."

"Why not?" Brennan asked curiously, ignoring Booth's pained expression and violent shake of his head. Jared Booth was a natural born charmer. The 9-year-old flirted with girls age six to sixty. Now his brother on the other hand… Brennan snuck a glance at the looming figure next to her.

Booth was just so… so big. And somewhat attractive, if one was into that sort of thing. But mostly, he was infuriating and cocky, two things Brennan knew she did not need in a man.

If she was looking for a man. Which she wasn't. With an unfamiliar toss of her head as if to clear such nonsense from her coolly logical mind, Brennan refocused her attention on Jared, who for once in his life wasn't giving her his patented little charm smile.

"She's just a big ol' tomboy," he said, disgruntled. "I don't want her at my party."

"But J, there will be lots of boys from your class there, bud. Who cares if she's a tomboy?" Booth interjected.

A surly look crossed Jared's usually sunny face, and he blew out a big, dramatic sigh and crossed his little arms across his chest. "Look, I just didn't want to invite her, okay? But I _did."_

"How magnanimous," Booth said dryly, an air of disapproval painting his tone.

Brennan peeked at him from under her lashes, shocked to hear the parental censure in his voice. It was utterly, unmistakably _wrong _to hear such a scary-parent tone out of a man who looked like he did…. Shadowed jawline, dark eyes… like the most tempting sin.

Ugh. She wholly regretted reading the romance novel Angela had forced upon her a few nights ago. What had appeared like a logical way to conduct research on the anthological norms, expectations and desires of the modern day woman had quickly… filled her brain with mush.

Regardless, watching Booth parent was an experience. It almost made her squirm in her seat, taking her back to happier times in her own family where her father had used the same reprimand in his tone. But as they pulled up to her apartment, he slid a hot look over her, one that utterly chased away her image of him parenting.

Goodness. Waving a quick bye and slamming the car door a little more forcefully than necessary, she bolted for the front door.

As she trotted up the stairs, her flush fading fast now that she was away from Booth, her attention caught on the familiar car parked down the street. Familiar and yet so unwelcome, Brennan groaned as she pushed open the door, already knowing who she'd find on the other side.

Her apartment was supposed to be her _sanctuary. _Away from hot students and pesky older brothers.

"Russ Brennan," she growled when she stomped in the door, nearly barreling into him. He grabbed her shoulders, giving her a shake.

"Where the hell were you all night?"

"How did you get in here?" she demanded right back, bristling at the exasperated look he shot her.

Russ released her and stood at the door, glaring down at the car Brennan had just vacated. She didn't have to look to know Booth was still there, waiting until she was safely in the building. She could see Russ nudge the door open wider, unobtrusively turning to the side so his shoulder holster was clearly visible.

Brennan frowned at him, jumping only slightly at the explosion from the car on the street. She whirled around just in time to see the front car door slam shut and Jared Booth's tiny little face smushed against the car window, his eyes dark smudges in a face pale with fear as he strained for a better view of his older brother racing to the front door.

"Booth," she cried out, trying to get him to slow down. She grabbed Russ by the collar of his shirt, holding him back.

"Get your hands off her," Booth was snarling. Fast as a snake he had caught her arm and dragged her behind him, putting his body between her brother and himself. At her shriek of surprise, Russ' hand automatically traveled to his gun, quickly assessing the flat, cold look in Booth's eye.

Seeing this, Brennan tried with all her might to shove Booth out of her way, but he held her fast, pinned against his back with one strong arm.

"Who are you," Booth growled, his voice harsh and raspy and unlike anything she had ever heard from him before. She spoke up from behind him, making pleading eyes with her brother from behind Booth's broad shoulder.

"Booth, it's okay. _It's okay,_" she shouted in his ear, pounding his back with her fist. Booth shook off her blows like a dog shaking off water, and she could feel every muscle tense in his back, his breath coming fast and quick. He was terrified, she realized. Deadly calm and utterly terrified. She realized how it must look, being grabbed when she walked in the door by a man, especially when he had shaken her and revealed his sidearm.

"Get in the car with Jared and _lock the door_," Booth gritted out, bracing himself to strike at her brother.

Brennan stared at his back incredulously. Russ hadn't drawn his gun, obviously, but Booth clearly believed he would. He would have her run while he did what exactly? Launch himself at a gunman?

_Men. Blasted, stupid men. _

Determined to end this once and for all, she slapped his shoulder hard, forcing him to listen to her. "My brother, Booth," she cried in his ear. "This is my brother. Don't worry. Everything's okay. He's FBI."

Booth stayed ramrod straight and tense, his gaze never wavering from Russ Brennan's hand hovering at his side.

Russ made a show of stepping back and retrieving his badge, flipping it open to thrust in Booth's rigid face. Booth finally relaxed his grip on her, and she immediately sprang between them both, placing a hand on Booth's chest to back him up slightly. She could feel his heart beating too fast under her fingertips, but his face still looked menacing, making her blood run cold.

For once, Booth looked every inch the hoodlum Angela had originally accused him of being. He stood tall and broad, muscle clearly visible under his black shirt and neat, but torn jeans. For the first time she noticed a tattoo on his upper arm, just visible beneath his sleeve. She'd always known about the kanji symbol on his wrist, but this was different. His eyes looked hard as flint, no flicker of warmth and humor lighting them like usual.

She finally realized how he could live in such a slummy neighborhood without being disturbed. He was terrifying. She heard a sound from the street and her eyes looked over Booth's shoulder to see Jared scrambling from the car, a mutinous expression on his face.

"Get away from my brother; get away from Bones," he shouted, sprinting toward them. Before Booth could reach and grab him, Jared slipped through his fingers and he launched himself at Russ, pummeling him with little fists.

Russ looked up, astonished as he tried to extricate himself from the whirling dervish kicking, biting and punching him. Brennan tried to grab him, but he slipped from her grasp.

Booth finally reached over and with a well judged swipe, caught his little brother in his arms, firmly stilling his wildly kicking arms and legs.

He turned slightly from them, crooning softly to his brother, all menace drained from his body. "Shhh… It's okay, J. You're fine. A friend, see? He's a friend. I made a mistake."

Speechless at how out of hand things had gotten, she saw silvery tears track down Jared's face as he shook, his anger finally ebbing into shock and fear.

"Don't ever leave me, Seeley," Jared was whispering to him, his little voice broken by rage and fear. Booth made a soft sound of comfort and pushed Jared's head into the crook of his shoulder, giving Brennan and Russ a tired look.

"I'm sorry for the misunderstanding," he ground out. He shifted Jared's weight in his arms and Jared locked his arms around his brother's neck, finally peeking out. Brennan's heart nearly stopped at the glitter of tears in the little lady-killer's face.

"I need to get him home," Booth said, ignoring the shock on both Brennans' faces. Things had gotten so out of control, so fast he was still reeling. All he knew was that Brennan had been in danger, so close to that gun and that unknown man and he had exploded. He hadn't known rage could burst through him so quickly, blocking out all other thought, all other logic. He hadn't known it was her brother.

And if he had pulled that gun on Brennan, he would have killed him. With no remorse.

The thought terrified him. He wasn't a violent man. He wasn't his father.

It rang like a mantra through his head as he turned from them and carried Jared back to the car, hot embarrassment and helpless fury ripping through him in equal parts.

_I'm not my father. I'm not my father. _


	5. Chapter 5

**There's very brief, strong language in this chapter, so tread carefully if you're especially sensitive to language. Longer A/N at the end. **

**CHAPTER 5**

"Tempe, would you care to explain to me what the hell just went on?" Russ demanded as he shut the door, a forbidding look crossing his features.

Briefly debating whether she could make a citizen's arrest on her own brother for breaking and entering into her apartment and interfering with her life, Brennan scowled at him.

"What 'the hell' that was all about," she began mockingly, glaring at him, "was that Booth was rightly alarmed when a man jumped out of my house and grabbed me. And the gun thing! Don't think I didn't notice that bit of macho posturing. You're just not used to anyone taking you up on that unspoken threat. Booth was man enough to do it."

"Cute, Tempe," Russ gritted out, looking anything but pleased. "C'mon, you know I worry about you. Who was that guy? Where were you all night?"

Russ' earnest, though grudging words cut through her in a way flowery words could not have. Sighing, she relented, internally agreeing to answer all of his questions.

"He's the student I've been tutoring in forensics and biology," she finally admitted.

"Late night study session?" Russ asked, and though the words were innocent, she heard the bite behind them.

Brennan led him into the sitting room, pushing him down on the couch and glaring at him from her vantage point above him. "How many times do I have to tell you that I'm not _like that_ anymore? Do my grades mean nothing to you? They're perfect!"

"You've always made perfect grades, Tempe, even when you were an inch away from Juvy. I'm questioning the tattooed, giant, scowling MAN who's already the father to a ten-year-old!" In his fury at his sister, Russ stood from the couch, crowding into her space.

"That's his younger _brother_, you jerk," Brennan pushing him away. She wheeled around, trying to steady the tears that sprang, unbidden, to her eyes. Her family. Her damn family. She spent most of her time trying to forget they existed.

"Cut the self-righteous crap, Tempe. You're not the only one who suffered when Mom died," Russ spat, his voice finally shaking with anger. "Stop acting like a brat and give me some straight answers. You know I have a right to know and you _know _that I have a right to be concerned!"

"It's just as I said it was, Russ," Brennan said, her voice icy. "He's my student. I've been tutoring him. Yesterday, we took his little brother out for his birthday and I fell asleep watching a movie at his place. That's all. Satisfied?"

Breaking his gaze from hers, Russ moved to the kitchen, yanking open the fridge. No beers, of course, he reminded himself, feeling edgy and foolish and weak. His sister was only twenty. His sister wasn't a total fuck-up like he was.

Grabbing a water and rolling the cool bottle over his forehead, Russ sighed, feeling every one of his thirty years. When he'd been twenty five and she'd been fifteen, their mother had blown her brains out all over the kitchen, cowardly escaping a husband too obsessed with work, a daughter too obsessed with school, and a son with too many vices to name.

It had ripped their family to shreds, but it did have the effect of pushing Russ on the straight and narrow. He'd joined the FBI in an effort to become a paragon of everything he hadn't been, of everything his mother had found weak enough to abandon. His sweet baby sister, however… Russ set his jaw, cringing.

Their mother's death had shaken her to the core, pushing her, urging her to become the loser he'd been. The person he'd tried so hard to shake. As their father had grown even more distant, and Russ had been too self-absorbed, trying to straighten up his own messed up life, Tempe had started cutting class, drinking booze and sneaking out.

Things had gone on like that for too long—as he struggled to become more and more perfect, she'd become less and less the angel he knew her to be. One day, when he looked at her over their infrequent mockeries of a family dinner, he hadn't even recognized her.

Who was this sullen, trashy girl with the heavy make up, the low cut blouses and the stoned, dead look in her eyes?

Gone was his baby sister, grinning at him like he'd hung the moon and the stars as he took her to go get ice cream. Gone was the quiet, precocious little girl who'd stared solemnly at him as he'd been getting ready to leave for the prom and pronounced him handsomer than Prince Charming. That girl, that little girl he'd loved, who'd been the sunshine and goodness in a life of vices, was gone.

From that moment on, he'd tried to fix her. He spent time with her, he trashed her clothes and bought her new ones, to her spitting horror, he remembered with a wry chuckle. She hadn't talked to him for weeks after that. He'd done everything he could to wipe the shadows from her eyes, but she was a changed person and so was he.

She'd fought him every step of the way, always insisting on buying new, trashier outfits to replace the ones he'd destroyed, wearing heavier makeup, dating older, and more frightening men. But despite all of that, she'd become more like herself in spirit, if not in looks. And he was okay with that, even if it meant abusing his FBI powers and flaunting his weapon at some of the seedier losers she dated.

Until one day, he'd picked her up for dinner and all of that was gone. She was dressed in a conservative, pale peach blouse, oatmeal slacks and a string of false pearls around her neck. It was the day she had gotten into Juniper Valley University, one of the most prestigious schools in the nation.

From that moment on, she'd been his little sister again, in looks and in temperament, but they'd never been close. Hell, they'd been closer when she was dressed like a hooker, dramatic eye makeup and all. It was like with the offer of that Presidential Scholarship, she'd cut him from her life in all the ways that mattered.

She was started over, he could realize now, a few years later. Becoming perfect in the only way she knew how to be. Without him.

When he had been nose to nose with that Booth character, all he could see was the black clothes, the tattoo, and, most alarmingly, his utter disregard for Russ' gun.

It was like a walk back in time, back to other men who'd abused his sister, taking advantage of her teenage confusion. He'd never known how far she'd gone with any of the men and any time he'd ask, she'd give him a scandalous, bitter look.

It wasn't his business. It hurt him to think that his sister didn't consider herself his business. He was determined to bridge that gap, whether she wanted him to or not, damnit.

"I'm sorry I caused a scene, Tempe," he finally said reluctantly. She had joined him in the small kitchen, leaning tiredly against the countertop.

"It's alright, Russ. I could see where you might have… gotten ideas," she said stiffly.

Russ had to fight back his scowl at the thought of the ideas he'd gotten when he'd seen how possessive that big brute had been over his baby sister.

"You know I worry about you," he said, trying a different tack. "You've always had this weakness for older, loser guys."

Brennan's eyes shuttered, and Russ cursed himself as he saw the olive branch he'd been offering fall to the floor. "Yes, well, maybe you should let me live me life my own way, Russ," Brennan said, frighteningly reasonably. "Let me make my own mistakes." She was inexorably leading him to the door.

"But get a few things straight, Russ," she said, when she had him on the doorstep. Seeley Booth is a good man. You have a lot in common with him if you'd just stop your inane blustering for more than two seconds. And you don't have a right to judge the men I date, even if I was dating him." A few beats, and then, "which I'm not," she said abruptly. She shut the door in his face, leaving Russ standing there, alternatively angry and perplexed.

He hadn't seen her this jittery in years.

* * *

"Seeley, you ain't mad at me for running out of the car, right?" Jared hesitated from the backseat, tears forgotten at his brother's ominous silence.

"Aren't, not ain't," Booth corrected absently, his face still flushed with humiliation. Her brother. Her damn brother and he'd overacted like some… some… someone who had a right to overreact, he finished lamely in his head.

He drove on autopilot, fury at himself making him speed through the familiar drive. He swallowed his pride and humiliation though, to properly chastise his too-courageous-for-his-own-good brother.

"Jared, I'm not angry, but I'm disappointed in you," Booth began slowly, trying to figure out how he had any right to scold Jared after he was simply following Booth's own impulsive lead. But Jared had put himself in danger, and that wasn't acceptable. "I told you to stay in the car. That was Brennan's brother, but we didn't know that at the time. He could have been dangerous. He could have hurt you."

"You ran out there, Seeley," Jared reminded, eyes so like each other's meeting in the rearview mirror. "I'm not going to stay put if you're in trouble. I got your back, right? Like you've got mine."

"But it was still reckless, Jared," Booth said, frowning at his little brother's bravado. Nine-year-olds shouldn't know things like "getting backs" and they certainly shouldn't be trying to protect foolish older brothers who were supposed to be taking care of them. He knew that Jared had had to grow up a lot faster than a lot of his classmates, but he was still sweet as pie, a blaze of innocence in Booth's confusing world. He'd give anything, give up anything to keep him that way, sweet, with the fearlessness of any rambunctious child. He wouldn't let that innocence be taken away the way his own had.

Jared, perceptive beyond his years, saw the struggle that his brother was having and shrugged, changing the subject with that particular grace most children had.

Abruptly.

"So, can we order pizzas for my friends at the party? And ice cream?"

Still reeling from the quick change in topic, Booth stumbled, mentally counted some of the figures on their savings and acquiesced, giving Jared a thumbs up. "Sure thing, Bud. But you only get the ice cream if you're especially nice to Jenny McCoy," he said, a lazy smile taking up residence on his face when he saw Jared's ears turn pink.

"She's a sissy girl," Jared whined, tugging at his too long hair with a distracted hand. "But I love ice cream. I was going to be nice to her anyway. Duh."

"Duh," Booth repeated, grinning widely now at Jared's discomfort. He couldn't wait to tell Brennan about his suspicions about Jared and little sissy tomboy Jenny McCoy. He darkened a little as he remembered how embarrassed he was, but he put it from his mind with a decided grunt. He'd made a fool out of himself, but that was okay. It wasn't like he cared what Miss Science thought of him.

With that mutinous thought, both Booths finished the ride in silence, identical red flushes on their jaws and confusion in their dark eyes.

* * *

**Sorry this chapter's a little short, but I thought it seemed a natural breaking point before Jared's birthday party. Hope everyone is still sticking with me. I know I said Brennan wouldn't come from a broken home, but a reviewer, Kate's Master, told me that she believed their mutual broken childhoods really forged a link between them. The more I thought about it, the more I agreed. Anyway, I'm terribly disappointed because I went through today believing it was Thursday and Bones day until about five minutes ago when I realized in horror that it was only Wednesday and NOT Bones day! Sad news! Anyway, there might be an upping in rating within a few chapters, so keep on the lookout for that and if you're under 17, I expect you to step away! **

**Thanks again, everyone. I'm sorry I'm so behind on my review replies!**

**Laura**


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER 6**

"Booth?" Brennan peered cautiously around the park, cursing herself for letting those two hoodlums out of her sight. "Jared?"

She'd been setting up a folding table, laying out the multicolored bandanas that would differentiate the two teams, when she realized that both boys were gone. Booth had been around just a second ago, lugging pizza boxes from the car while Jared tripped behind him, dragging around an ice cream carton nearly as big as he was by its red plastic handle. They definitely weren't there anymore.

She glanced warily around the field, eyeballing the many trees and stumps two rambunctious boys might hide behind. Booth had picked the field for the game well. Along with the many trees making for a natural cover, one end of the field was blocked by an elementary school, one end by a slow road, one by the school's parking lot and the last by a big wooden fence. It was ideal, practical and fun while being safe. The natural boundaries of the field's location would keep any kids from wandering off.

The thought of the time Booth must have spent planning the party for Jared made her smile wistfully. Seeing Russ had brought up all kinds of memories she usually tamped down, and though they had parted slightly less than amicably, she knew they were okay. Well, as okay as they ever were.

She had wondered last night, however. When Russ had gone, she sat in the big recliner near the TV with Angela nearby. Angela was sketching an assortment of items she'd pilfered from around the apartment, while Brennan held her notes in front of her, her crisp handwriting blurring with her unfocused gaze.

If their roles had been reversed, she thought, deciding to indulge in completely useless speculation. If her parents had suddenly been gone—would Russ have taken care of her as completely as Booth had of Jared?

She would have liked to think that he would've. She knew he loved her. But she just wasn't sure. Despite her brother's kindness and good intentions, she wasn't sure if Russ had that elusive quality she could see in Booth.

She couldn't put a name to the feeling, exactly, but Booth had demonstrated it on an almost daily basis since she had woken up in his apartment in his soft sheets, with his scent in her nose and Jared staring at her. She blushed with shame at how harshly she had judged Booth when he had first sauntered into her life. Resentful at his intrusion into her orderly world, she had taken one long look at his good looks and written him off as a faceless, brainless jock.

He had proven her wrong, which didn't happen often, and moreover, she was beginning to really enjoy spending time with him. Throughout the six months she'd been tutoring him, he'd kept her on her toes, ribbing her mercilessly one moment and then stunning her with an utterly intuitive question that proved he'd soaked up everything she'd told him.

Brennan shook her head clear of the thoughts, deciding she really needed to stop thinking about Booth in the abstract and start thinking about the real flesh and blood man who was currently, alarmingly absent.

Just then, a streak of red flashed through the trees, heading straight toward her. The dervish skidded to a stop right in front of her, his forward momentum propelling him straight into her arms.

"Gotcha, Bones!" The blur chirped joyfully into her stomach, looking up and resting his chin on her tummy. "When are people coming? Do you think they'll bring me presents?"

She skimmed a hand through his dark hair, sifting the silky strands through her fingers. Her motion released an oddly appealing scent of grass, sweat and sweet, little boy grit. She gave him a smile, feeling odd about being so comfortable with a child. She hadn't been around children much, but she'd always thought kids wouldn't really like her. This one, apparently, was immune.

"It's about four thirty, Jared. We still need to--"

She cut off and screamed as she was suddenly airborne, falling with an undignified "oomph" onto Booth's shoulder as he held her in a fireman's carry over his shoulder.

Jared was screaming with laughter at her stunned expression, and she could feel Booth's chuckles reverberating right through his body. It was oddly intimate, but she ignored the butterflies in her stomach, pounding on his back ineffectually with her fists instead.

"Seeley Booth, you let me down right now!"

"Good distraction, Bud," Booth told his brother, giving him a thumb up with one hand and giving her rump a totally presumptuous, totally inappropriate smack with the other.

_"Booth!" _Brennan yelled, scandalized and yet oddly tingly. "This is not appropriate. I am your lab tutor and moreover, I am a respected student of forensic anthropology."

Booth let out a full belly laugh at that, spinning around with her draped on his shoulders, trying to make her dizzy. "The two events are definitely not mutually exclusive, Bones," he said, continuing to laugh as he spoke. "You still be captured even if you're a scientist."

Brennan, considering this for a second, stopped struggling. "Is this really how you play Capture the Flag? I'm worried that children Jared's age will injure themselves lifting other players," she froze, a note of real concern coloring her voice. "Lifting too much weight could lead to an anterior pelvic tilt which will plague them later in life. Booth, is this game too dangerous for them?"

Booth stopped chuckling, maneuvering her around his head easily until she was no longer backwards. He looked her in her eyes, still not letting her feet touch the ground. Catching her smoky blue gaze, he swallowed reflexively at the utter concern in her eyes.

"You are too sweet, you know that Bones?" he asked seriously, all traces of laughter gone from his eyes.

She caught her breath, letting it out in a whoosh as he set her gently on the ground. Jared pulled on her hand, and she tore her gaze from Booth's serious one as she looked at his little brother.

"That's not how you play Capture the Flag, Bones," Jared said patiently. "Seeley and I were just playing Catch the Bones." He said the last bit with a cheeky grin, trying to communicate the joke to her.

"Catch the Bones? I'm not sure I'm aware of that game. But it sounds unusually productive as these types of games go. Does it involve naming the bones in the skeleton? If so, I could make up a chart for the kids to learn from. Booth, what a wonderful game!"

Jared looked like he was about to smile, but he reined it in, a move Booth didn't fail to catch. His chest swelled with pride as Jared explained the joke, then proceeded to explain the real rules of Capture the Flag. Booth saw her smile flag when she realized that they wouldn't be playing her version of Catch the Bones, but Jared's enthusiastic recapping of the Capture the Flag rules soon engaged her.

Chuckling, Booth finished laying out the bandanas, which he would give to each kid to tie around their arms to distinguish teams, and went to hide the two flags on opposite ends of the field. When he returned, Brennan and Jared had set up a cooler for the ice cream and drinks, and sorted the pizza boxes on the table.

"Looks like a feast, bro," Booth said, causally swinging Jared up to sit on his shoulder. Unlike Booth, who'd been built like an ox pretty much his entire life, Jared was lean and scrappy and short, and probably would remain that way for a few more years. And unlike Brennan, he didn't scream bloody murder from his precarious perch on Booth's shoulder.

Booth flicked a look at Bones, but when she caught his eye, she looked away, blushing. Temperance Brennan was honest-to-God blushing.

Had she been checking him out? Absurdly pleased by this, Booth couldn't resist edging closer, trying to see how cute her cheeks looked glowing red.

His plan was foiled by the sound of a car door slamming. Jared wriggled off his shoulder, leaping the six feet to the ground fearlessly, and hardly staggering as he bolted to greet his first guest.

Booth followed his brother at a slightly more sedate pace, greeting the parents with a charming grin on his face.

Brennan hung back slightly, observing the two boys. Jared and his first guest, a tall, lanky boy with bright blonde hair were engaging in some sort of convoluted handshake, while Booth chatted easily with the boy's mom and dad. He waved them off a few minutes later, and by then the guests had started to arrive in earnest.

By five, everyone was accounted for, ten boys, including Jared, and six girls. Brennan watched in amazement as the kids played and chattered, Jared in the center of it all. It was noisy and boisterous and, well, overwhelming, but it didn't appear to faze Booth, who stood next to her, watching over all the kids like a protective parent.

After a moment, Booth let out a chuckle, grabbing her hand to pull her close enough so he could whisper to her. His fingers felt calloused and large, completely enveloping her hand.

Brennan had to instruct herself to focus on what he was saying to her. He smelled awfully nice. Briefly, she wondered at this new habit of smelling people, but quickly shrugged it off. Booth's scent was one of the most delicious things she'd ever inhaled. It was a crisp mix of soap, wood smoke, and aftershave, making him smell outdoorsy and clean.

She soaked it up like a sponge, wondering if it were possible to bottle a scent. She'd make millions.

"See that girl over there?" Booth was saying, pointing out a girl on the fringe of the group. His fingers disentangled from hers, leaving her oddly bereft. Brennan followed his finger, spotting the girl.

"Yes, I see her. Who is she?" Brennan asked. The little girl was Jared's age, with glossy dark hair stuck up in a ponytail, a spray of freckles across a pert nose, and big blue eyes.

"That is Jenny McCoy, the girl who's going to bring my little Casanova brother to his knees," Booth said, stretching and smiling.

"She hardly looks dangerous, Booth," Brennan said, watching the little girl closely. Jenny McCoy was squatting in the dirt, poking at something on the ground with a stick.

"Jared's crazy about her," Booth said confidently.

Brennan watched, her brow furrowed in confusion. Jared wasn't paying the slightest bit of attention to Jenny McCoy.

"I don't think so, Booth. How do you know?"

Booth snorted. "Besides the fact that she's all he can talk about? I can tell. That girl's stolen his heart."

"He's only nine," Brennan mused, watching Jared chase some of the girls in his class, giving them individual smiles meant to charm when he caught them. Most of the girls giggled and bolted, coming to stand together and laugh. Jenny McCoy remained apart from them, still poking at the ground with that stick, completely oblivious to her surroundings.

"Trust me. He's a goner." Brennan watched in fascination as Jenny lifted the stick carefully, plucking a tiny, wriggling thing from the end with gentle hands.

One of the girls near her saw what Jenny was cupping in her hands and screamed, while the boys stopped their game of tag, confused.

"You'll scare it!" Jenny was chiding the girls, protectively hunching over whatever she had cupped in her palms.

Booth and Brennan stepped closer, nearing the ring of boys jostling for a spot around Jenny. Brennan looked over their heads to see the girl gently holding a tiny, harmless garter snake.

Booth cleared the crowd and crouched next to Jenny, talking to her for a moment. She looked forlorn, then nodded once, and Booth gently took the snake from her hands. Brennan watched Jared, forefront in the crowd, his brown eyes wide and intensely focused on Jenny McCoy. She finally saw the admiration in his gaze so evident to Booth earlier, as Jared watched his brother talk to Jenny. As the crowd dispersed, drama averted when Booth carried the snake a distance away and let it free, Brennan kept her eyes on Jared, who couldn't keep his eyes off of Jenny.

Suddenly, Jared was standing next to Jenny, awkwardly patting her small shoulder. Brennan belatedly realized that Jenny was crying.

"Don't cry, Jenny," Jared was saying, looking a little helpless. "Seeley had to take the snake away. He was scaring the other kids. They don't know that he's harmless, like you and me do."

Jenny looked up, her blue eyes glossy with tears as she sniffled. Jared looked gobsmacked.

Brennan turned at the heavy footsteps behind her, and turned to face Booth, an astonished look on her face. "Booth, you're right. He's completely infatuated with her. I can't believe you could tell so easily. I don't think she has a clue."

"Jared and I have a lot in common," Booth said cryptically. He turned around then, letting out a piercing whistle that stopped all the kids in their tracks.

"Okay kids, who's up for some Capture the Flag?"

* * *

An hour and a half later, Brennan flopped on the grass, exhausted. They'd played guys versus girls at the request of Jared's friends, with the caveat that the girls got Booth on their team. Jared and his friends reluctantly took Brennan on their team, thought Jared had given her an encouraging smile and chastised his friends when they had grumbled. She smiled when she thought back on how cheerful Jared had been about it, even though he clearly wished his older brother had been on his team.

With Booth playing with the girls, they'd won, causing the boys to challenge them to a best two out of three. The boys plus Brennan won the next round, and then the next, becoming the unquestioned champions.

Toward the end of the last game, Booth had simply followed her around, giving her menacingly little smiles and jumping out from whatever trees he could fit behind. Brennan had giggled helplessly, because no matter how braced for attack she thought she was, every single time he succeeded in scaring her.

Brennan sat up in the grass, watching Booth keep an eye on the remaining kids. Almost everyone had left, except Jenny McCoy, who Brennan noted Jared was studiously avoiding, and a few other stragglers.

A minivan rolled up to the lot, near where she was sitting. A tall woman with sharp features got out, calling to her son and waiting impatiently near the car. Another mother was already there, waiting for her daughter to finish locating her tennis shoes.

Falling backwards into the tall grass, Brennan closed her eyes, enjoying the soft breeze on her face and the pleasant exhaustion in her limbs.

"—cannot believe I let Kelly come. Do you know what she told me? That thug boy had a _snake_. Here! At the party! Around the children."

"Do you see that tattoo on his arm? Chance told me that that boy killed his mother and father, but the police couldn't nail him on the charges."

Brennan stiffened, hot anger washing through her in one violent sweep.

"Oh Sandy, you don't actually think he killed his parents?"

"I wouldn't put it past him. Regardless, he's no good, that boy. It's unseemly, his raising that kid. The little one's going to grow up to be just like his older brother if they don't get that straightened out. Chance told me that Jared is already an outrageous flirt. You should warn Kelly to keep away from him. That whole family is trash."

Visibly shaking, Brennan rose from her prone position and marched up to the two ladies. She could hear Booth's voice behind her, boisterous and sweet, directing a game of Simon Says, and it just infuriated her more. That these women could come here and say these hateful things about the man who had scrimped and saved a long time to throw this party for his brother… she wanted to scream.

"Excuse me ladies," Brennan said stiffly. She ignored the confused looks they gave her and continued to speak, not knowing what she'd say until the words flew from her lips. "You both are pernicious, gossiping bitches."

The words were spoken so calmly, it took the women a moment to realize how insulted they had just been.

"Seeley Booth is the most responsible, kind-hearted person I've ever met and his parenting makes you two look worse than trash. Neither of you are fit to wipe his boots," she continued, dressing them down as she'd never dressed anyone down in her life. "And Jared is the sweetest boy you could ever meet. I think you should leave. I'll get Kelly and Chance. Then get the hell out of here."

Brennan spun around before they could respond, stumbling, then walking fiercely toward Booth and the remaining kids. Brennan could hear them behind her, their tongues wagging with gossip, and she heard the names they called her.

Whore. Slut.

She forced her rage down, speaking gently to Chance and Kelly to send them on their way, because it wasn't their fault their mothers were raving lunatics.

As both kids waved goodbye to Jared, Booth grabbed her arm, looking at her closely. "Sweetheart, what's wrong?" He said softly, barely noticing the endearment that slipped so easily into their conversation.

Brennan fumbled for words, flushed with anger and a spike in adrenaline. Yanking on Booth's arm, she pulled him behind a nearby tree and kissed him, briefly and fiercely before letting go and staring into his bewildered brown eyes.

"You are the _best _man I know, Seeley Booth," she said sternly, as if he might argue with her. When he didn't, she turned away and bolted to the safety of Jared and the kids, but not before Booth saw a glimmer of tears in her eyes. He felt as flummoxed as Jared must have been earlier when Jenny had burst into tears at his removal of her snake, and he rubbed his jaw, baffled as hell.

* * *

**A/N: I know I'm behind on review replies! I will hopefully have them done soon. I wanted to get this written first. Thanks so much for everyone's steadfast support of this story! Ya'll are incredible and SO much fun to write for. I hope this keeps entertaining. I'm a little depressed with no Bones to get me through the summer! Mmm... by the way, if you haven't ever watched Buffy the Vampire Slayer, I highly recommend going out and buying seasons 2-3 (the most David heavy *shameless grin*). Watching David Boreanaz play Angel/Angelus is just too good to resist. If you're trying to picture Booth in this story, look no further than how DB looked playing those roles. Such a sweet bad boy. Sorry, that was a tangent. I just inspired myself to go rewatch a few episodes... Regardless, I think I just hijacked my own story with my inane ramblings. Forgive me, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Rain lashed at the windows, illuminating the inside of Booth's apartment in a sickly, pallid light. Jared lay quietly on the floor near the TV, playing with his army men and crunching on popcorn. A loud crack of thunder made him jump, his shaking hands spilling kernels all over the floor. Jared glanced up, taking comfort in the sounds of Seeley and Bones talking at the kitchen table. He laid his head on the rug, listlessly pushing the green men across the carpet.

He hated the storms. It had been storming the night his father had taken him to the hospital without saying a word to him. Jared could still remember the sharp tang of fear knifing through him when no one would answer his pleas—_Where is Mom? Where is Seeley? Dad? Dad? Why won't you answer me?_

Eventually, because his father wasn't even speaking to him, a kindly nurse had pulled him aside and taken him to see his brother. Seeley was scratched and bruised from head to toe, with a long row of stitches up his side from a shard of shattered windshield.

Despite these injuries, which were frightening enough to see, Seeley had opened his arms and let Jared climb up onto the exam table with him, curling against his uninjured side.

Then, in a halting voice made rough by stress and grief, Seeley had told him about the accident, and that their mother was now in heaven, watching over them at this very moment.

Jared's memories after that horrible revelation were scattered, but he remembered the sizzle of lightning striking close by, the way it lit up Seeley's face and made him look like a stranger—bruised and stitched and cut like a zombie. The responding thunder had seemed to echo his grief as he sobbed.

Jared shook himself out of his memories, laying his head back on the rug and closing his eyes, concentrating on Bones and Seeley's familiar voices. His shallow breathing calmed somewhat, but silent tears still leaked out the sides of his closed eyes.

_His mom. He missed his mom so much. So darn much._

_

* * *

_

Booth was miserable. Jared was miserable. The goddamn weather was miserable.

The only person who wasn't miserable was Brennan, who had her hands full trying to tempt the bigger Booth boy out of his churlish mood. She tapped her fingers on the paper, drawing Booth's focus back to the work in front of him.

"C'mon, Booth, you had all this a few days ago. Amino acids aren't randomly scattered, they're coded for by similar sets of codons. You know that, right?" Without waiting for him to respond, she pointed back to a few paragraphs in his textbook. "Now all this wants you to do is to apply your basic, informational knowledge into an open-ended question. This is your forte. 'What evolutionary explanations can be given for this pattern?' I know you can do this, Booth."

The look she gave him was so earnest, so trusting in his own ability that he wanted to launch the freaking kitchen table over. He was never like this, he thought, a little desperately. He felt out of control, and panicky and… his mind broke off when thunder shook the apartment, and he grimaced. Two years later and he still grew as ferocious as a bear when it stormed.

Usually, he enjoyed his tutoring sessions with Bones. He had from the very beginning. She was charming as all get out, easily ruffled and just as easily soothed, and besides that, she was brilliant. She explained things to him in a way that made sense, in a way that kept him from feeling too stupid. He generally caught on immediately to what she told him, and he often wondered aloud to her why she didn't just teach the class and be done with it. She was, hands down, the best teacher he'd ever had.

He knew she had started out teaching him under duress, and to merely fulfill a degree requirement, but she'd never half-assed their work together. She was as relentless as a drill sergeant, something he found part of her charm.

Even when he was slow, even when his grades in Biology kept slipping, she'd say just the right thing and everything would click. It was brilliant. And what really kept him going was her faith in him. She thought he could do it.

Booth desperately wanted to deserve that trust.

Except today. God damn today. He didn't know what was wrong with him. He wasn't normally so abrasive. He'd woken up surly and Jared had woken up whiny. Temperance Brennan was a saint for just being in the same room as the two of them. That was as far as his charitable thoughts would go, however.

Brennan was looking adorable in her cozy sweatshirt, so insanely kissable he knew he'd go mad if he had to continue like this. Now that he knew what her kisses tasted like, he'd never be able to forget. She was indelibly on his mind, a tattoo right on his heart.

Sometimes, he didn't know why she bothered with him. He was riffraff, and his intellect was so far below hers it wasn't even remotely funny. He tried to swallow his anger and focus, but another streak of lightning illuminated the apartment in an unearthly glow and he jumped, the words blurring before him on the page.

_"Let me drive, Seeley. I've had years more experience driving than you in this sort of weather."_

_"Mom, come on," a charming smile, the one that she told him made him look angelic. "I'm driving you home, the weather's horrible. Who said chivalry is dead?"_

Booth shuddered at the memory, his head pounding, throat raw. He looked down at his notes, a little desperately. "Evolutionary patterns can be explained…_Evolutionary patterns can be explained…"_

Brennan caught his arm, her eyes wide with shock. He normally kept his emotions firmly in check, but he'd been on edge all day. Embarrassment, frustration and pain radiated from him in waves, and she stroked his forearm, unconsciously soothing.

"Booth, you need to calm down," she said softly, seeing the glittering anger in his eyes. "It's just biology. In the scheme of things, this test means nothing. We'll keep working at it until you get it."

It'd been a week since she'd blown his mind, kissing him senseless behind that tree. He swallowed harshly, feeling fire burn down his throat at the motion. Fire like the touch of her lips on his, a sweet pressure for which he'd been wholly unprepared. When she'd released him breathlessly moments later and gone running off, he couldn't have moved for the life of him. He could still see the blue-on-indigo tint of her eyes, and he could still feel the raspberry sweetness that was her tongue tasting his.

For the first time in his life he'd been struck senseless. Temperance Brennan, so shy and contradictory had rendered him unable to breathe, unable to think, and unable to remember why the kiss had been such a huge, monumental mistake.

Because that's what it was, at its core, and that's what hurt so damn badly. Who was he to rely on her so fully? Was it not enough that she wasted her days teaching him? Should he keep her from having a normal college experience as well? She deserved someone so much better than he was.

Temperance Brennan deserved the full, unsplintered love of someone not plagued by childcare worries, job worries, scholarship worries, raising-a-freaking-child worries. Booth knew he wasn't normal. He'd given up any hope of normalcy when he'd seen the coffin thump close on his mother's lifeless body and then again when the door slammed shut behind his father's retreating back.

He'd gotten used to "not normal." In fact, he'd kind of embraced it until she'd shown up in his life and ran roughshod all over his own skewed idea of normalcy.

He'd avoided her for days after the party. It was cowardly. He knew it. But he was trying to do the right thing, trying to keep her whole and safe. Everything he touched turned to ash, while she was sunlight, elusive and ephemeral.

It would be wrong to bring her down into his darkness, he thought, a little feverishly. He could hear his father's voice, condemning him as he'd done so much in the hellish weeks after their mother's death.

_You're nothing, boy. Nothing. You're worse than nothing, you murderous scum. Do you think she'd be dead if you hadn't been driving that day?_ _Do you think we'd be burying your mother if you hadn't been born? I didn't want you in the first place. She was the only goodness in this god-forsaken world and you snuffed her out. You're nothing, nothing to me, boy. _

"Booth?" Brennan was saying hesitantly, touching his face. His cheek scalded her palm and Brennan frowned, moving her hand to his other cheek and then to his forehead.

"Booth, you're burning up! How long have you been like this?"

"Stop it," Booth growled, springing up from the table. "Stop _caring _about me. I don't need it."

Jared glanced up from where he'd been quietly playing with his army men on the floor. "Seeley?" Jared asked tentatively, wondering if he'd pushed his brother too far earlier with his complaining. He'd never seen Seeley look like that.

"Booth," Brennan tried to grab his arm, but he shook it off violently, his teeth clenched in a feral scowl.

"I'm nothing, Brennan," he ground out. He gestured to the notes scattered on the table. "This means nothing to me because I'm a worthless human being. How am I going to graduate if I can't get by without your help? What, are you going to follow me around for the rest of my life, explaining life's big words and open-ended questions to me? Huh?"

Jutting her chin out at him, she gave him a mulish expression. He'd finally exhausted all her stores of patience.

"And what's so wrong with asking for help, Booth? It's not the end of the world," she shot back at him, angry and exasperated and hurt. "You let what other people say dictate your own self image. If someone says you're a punk, you believe them. If they say you're trash, you agree with them. What kind of example is that? You may be strong and generous and kindhearted in most things, but in this? You. Are. A. Coward." She crowded into his space, looking up into his eyes until they were almost nose-to-nose.

"Fine. I'm a coward. I'm also a nothing and a murderer. You're not the first to call me names, Brennan. Pick a number and get in line," he said derisively. Internally, he was shocked at the words flowing out of his mouth. His head ached, and he was so exhausted he didn't know how he was still standing. But he had to keep going, he thought desperately, he needed to make her so angry she left. His heart wouldn't be able to take it if she insinuated herself much closer.

But the words rang out, venomous and harsh. The selfish part of him wished he could take them back; the much smaller, nobler side encouraged it. Another boom of thunder rattled the apartment just like she rattled him.

"If you would stop feeling so damn sorry for yourself then you could see what I see!" Brennan exploded. She marched up to him and shoved him, trying to hide the angry tears in her eyes. "You'd see someone who's worth loving. You're _worth it, _Booth."

The fight drained out of him then and he froze, his shoulders shaking. His hands trembled as he clenched them into fists. He could barely see straight, but he could hear her. Such goodness, he thought feverishly. He needed to get away before he ruined her too.

"Booth, you're sick," she cried a little desperately as he staggered to the door. "Where are you going?" She grabbed his arm, pulling back as he opened the door to the rain soaked street. He took a few steps outside, and became instantly soaked in an instant.

Rain lashed down almost sideways, stinging his hot skin with ice. He ignored Brennan's frantic pulling on his arm. Good, evil. It was so simple sometimes.

"Seeley Booth!"

Booth froze in at the voice. He turned his head just enough to see his little brother glaring at him from his spot next to Brennan. "Get back inside, _right now_ Seeley," Jared said sternly. "I mean it. You're in so much trouble it's not even funny."

Booth nearly let out a hysterical laugh. His younger brother was parenting him. Dear God, what was he doing? He started to shiver, violent quakes that racked his body. Turning suddenly, he dry heaved into the bushes, but he hadn't eaten anything to throw up in two days.

Brennan took full advantage of Booth's hesitation to yank him inside and slam and deadbolt the door. Booth stood in the front, shivering and soaking wet, his shirt plastered to him like a second skin.

Brennan stood on her tiptoes to feel his forehead again and cursed, moving her hands to the hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head. She swatted at him when he protested, silencing him with a glare.

"Jared, can you go get me a new shirt and some towels for your brother?"

Jared nodded and ran off, returning a moment later with the clothing. She grabbed the towel and rubbed him dry, trying to ignore the proximity of all that golden, toned skin. He protested feebly, but she easily batted his hands away. "You should be glad you have a fever, punk," she said to him softly, trying to get him to focus on her. "Because when you wake up we're having a very long chat."

He managed to give her a flicker of his rakish smile. "Promises, promises."

His shorts were less soaked than his shirt had been, so she merely unbuttoned and unzipped them, tugging the damp khaki down his legs. She was fiercely relieved to see that his boxers had been spared the rain, therefore sparing her the need to remove them.

She didn't know if she was ready to be quite that objective.

After stripping him down, she slid her arm around him and led him to his bed. When he collapsed in bed with a sigh of blessed relief, Brennan went to the kitchen to get him a glass of cool water and some medicine.

When she returned, Jared was sitting next to Booth on the bed, pushing his brother's sweaty hair from his eyes. "Me and Bones are going to take care of you, Seeley," she heard him say, "But afterwards, we're going to have a big talk about how to treat ladies. You're hopeless. It's no wonder you don't have a girlfriend."

She heard Booth croak with laughter and she hurried to him to make him drink up. If he hadn't been eating, he was probably dehydrated as well. After he had drunk to her satisfaction and swallowed the pills, she left the glass within easy reach on the nightstand and took Jared's spot next to him.

"Sleep, Booth," she whispered softly to him as she leaned in close. "You'll feel better in the morning. I'm sorry I didn't notice how sick you were earlier."

Booth sighed, reaching out a hand to intertwine with hers. "You're so good, Bones," he murmured, fever bright eyes meeting hers. "'m sorry."

With that he fell into a deep slumber. Brennan didn't move from her spot next to him for a few moments, however, taking in the exhaustion that lined his face. When she leaned back, Jared was there, sitting on his own bed with a worried frown on his face.

"I should have told you, Bones. I don't think Seeley's been feeling good for the last few days."

She moved to sit next to Jared, letting him lean against her side. She tentatively reached out a hand to stroke his hair, in the way he seemed to like "It's okay, Jared, it's just the flu."

"Still, I'm sorry he was mean to you," Jared said firmly. "Sick or not sick, he had no right to yell at you like that."

"Thanks Jared," Brennan said softly, wondering what on earth she was going to do now. Booth was a stubborn man, but she could be just as stubborn. She wanted him, she decided, staring at his sleeping form. He was imperfect and cocky and everything she never thought she'd fall for, but, against all odds, she had.

And when he was feeling a little better, she was going on the offensive. She wasn't going to let his misguided feelings about his own worth ruin their relationship.

He'd tried to run her off tonight, she could tell. But even through all of his blustering and anger, she could see his eyes, begging her not to go.

_Oh Booth_, she thought, checking his fever worriedly. _Feel better soon._

_

* * *

_**Brennan's explanation of evolution was found on a Yahoo! answer's question. It won't let me post the link, but I searched "difficult biology question" and it came up. *sheepish grin* Sorry guys. Bio was a weak spot in my education. :) Ya'll are awesome. As always, review replies to come. I'm now caught up from chapter 5. Time to start in on chapter 6. Maybe one day I won't be so far behind! **


	8. Chapter 8

**There is some extremely harsh language at the end of this chapter, enough, I think, that I might push this story into the M category within the next few chapters. Be warned.**

* * *

Brennan squared off against Jared, eyeballing the deck of cards in his hands suspiciously.

"Are you sure you're dealing those fairly?" She pressed him, at a loss to figure out how Jared was beating her so soundly at this absurd game of chance.

Jared looked wounded as he continued dealing the deck in two piles for the card game War. "You're just a sore loser, Bones," he said cheerfully, painstakingly placing each card just so on their respective piles.

"I am not," she responded indignantly. "It's just statistically improbable for you to win so many hands in a game that's pure chance." She thought about what she'd said for a minute before grudgingly admitting, "though each round is a fifty-fifty chance."

Jared nodded, his small legs tucked under him as he knelt on floor across from her. For a minute Brennan allowed herself to gaze at him while he dealt, trying to catalogue his similarities to Booth. At first glance, they looked nothing like brothers. Booth was built like an ox, tall and muscular. She had a feeling that though he'd gotten most of those muscles from hockey workouts and hard labor, that his natural build was big and lean as well. Jared on the other hand was delicate and tiny, and she knew that even if he shot up with a growth spurt, he'd always be much rangier than his older brother. If she looked a little closer, she could see the same intelligence in their brown eyes, and Jared's square jaw already promised to resemble his brother's as he grew into it.

Physical appearances aside, Brennan could see that Jared idolized Booth, and strove to emulate him. She knew Jared had his own bit of courage, and both Booths had that charm smile down pat. Jared was already growing up to be a little lothario, a role she knew Booth could adopt if he so chose.

The thought nearly made her growl out loud, a frightening irrational and primal reaction to the thought of any other woman running her hands up that broad chest.

Jared nudged her, pointing to his upturned card and waiting for her to play.

"So, are you in love with Seeley, Bones?"

Brennan choked for a moment, her hand shaking as she turned her card. A two. Jared took her with a measly four.

"Well, are you?"

Jared had asked the question bluntly, no insinuation, no innuendo behind his tone. Brennan thought about his question with the honesty in which he'd asked it.

"I don't know," she finally replied. "I've never been in love."

Jared nodded at this, looking decades older than his nine years. "Well he loves you, Bones. Even though you don't know if you love him back."

"Why on earth would you say that, Jared?" she countered to him, placing another card down to mask her jitters. He laid down the same card. They each laid down three more, turning over the fourth to determine who won the War.

Jared did. Of course.

"He loves you, Bones. He's loved you all year," Jared said matter-of-factly. "He talks about you all the time."

Years of self-discipline dropped from her, and Brennan was ashamed to say that she leaned forward and proceeded to blatantly pump him for information. Jared looked imminently wise and so precisely certain of what he was saying that she almost believed him.

At her not-so-subtle urging, Jared began listing the reasons why Booth loved her. Part of her wanted to be ashamed for gossiping like a pre-teenager with Booth's little brother, but the other part of her, the part glowing golden and pure inside her heart lit away the darkness of the shame.

"Look Bones," Jared said seriously. "Seeley doesn't love very many people so he doesn't have a lot of practice in the matter. He loves me, he loved our mom, and he loves you. That's pretty much it."

"Jared, I know you maybe want Bo—Seeley and I to be together… to love each other, but just because we both love you, doesn't mean that Seeley loves me, or that I love him for that matter."

"I know Seeley loves you, Bones," Jared said forcefully, but quietly, secure in his knowledge. "He dreams about you almost every night. Did you know that? Seeley has always talked in his sleep. For the longest time he'd have nightmares that would have him screaming into the pillow." Jared paused, a deep frown creasing his face.

"I used to go over to him when he'd have bad nights like that, wake him up and ask him if I could sleep with him. He thought I was having nightmares, and I let him think it, but I really just wanted to let him sleep. He sleeps much better when he's with someone. I don't know why."

"I've never noticed him having any nightmares," Brennan said softly, glancing over at the still form on the bed across the apartment. It startled her to realize that she'd spent… two, no three nights here since she'd diagnosed him with the flu. He had been on the mend, but a sudden relapse spiked his fever high. She was just about to go check on him, despite the juicy conversation she was having with Jared, when he stopped her with his small hand on her arm.

"He stopped having so many nightmares about six months ago," Jared said quietly. "Right about the time he started talking about you."

Brennan bit her lip, glancing back at Jared for a brief moment before hurrying to Booth's side, trying to push his disquieting words behind her.

Booth was sprawled across the bed, the covers kicked off. Brennan breathed a sigh of relief to see the sweat that glistened on his body, a sure sign that his fever was breaking. He'd been sick for three days. On day two, she thought he'd been getting better. He had gotten up and watched a movie with her and Jared, and he even managed to keep down something other than toast and ginger ale. However, that night, when Jared was sleeping and she was dozing next to him on the couch, she'd heard him whimper.

Attuned to him after two days of constantly caring for him, she took his temperature and hustled him back to bed when she saw it read a scorching 103.

But now his fever was breaking, she thought happily, using a soft washcloth to cool down his overheated body. She painted down his stomach with strong, sure strokes, watching his muscles contract momentarily at the contact.

Her worries slightly abated, she allowed herself the leisure to study the man she had decided to fight for. He fought for so many things, for enough money, to get good grades, for Jared, and for her. The thought sent a shiver down her spine as she took him in, moving the cloth to stroke down his smooth shoulders.

Brennan leaned down to examine the tattoo that covered the upper part of his arm, her dark hair falling in a curtain on his skin. It looked like a gryphon, with an eagle's head and a lion's lower half, and she tried to remember what she'd learned in mythology about the gryphon. Guardians, she remembered, they often guarded gold and other treasures.

Ouch, she though as she tried to shift positions. She was on her knees next to bed, and it _hurt. _

Glancing over at Jared, who had turned on the TV and was engrossed in some strange cartoon about a talking sea sponge, Brennan took a deep breath and lay down next to him, pillowing her head on her arm to get a better look at his tattoo.

It felt good to be next to him, she thought, feeling as if a rush of breath she hadn't known she'd been holding had just been let out. Booth was still sleeping, a little fitfully, but Brennan knew it meant he was on the mend. Anything was better than how he'd been, listless and fever weak. She'd been terrified she wasn't caring for him properly, and she'd almost taken him to the hospital countless times. Finally, finally though, he looked like he was getting better.

Feeling a little guilty, but sighing with pleasure at being so close to him, Brennan skimmed his tattoo with her fingertips. The dark ink looked so forbidding on his skin, yet it fit him in a way she'd never expected. Gryphons mated for life, she remembered, running her fingers down his arm to lace her fingers with his. Her hands were cold and he was so warm, she thought muzzily, edging a little closer. She hadn't slept much the past few days, and she hadn't even begun to think about the classes she'd been skipping. Her eyes fell closed as she unconsciously slipped under his arm, her head finding a spot to nestle into his shoulder.

Gryphons mated for life and… she tried to remember the rest of what she knew, but she was rapidly sinking into sleep and she knew it. Her limbs felt heavy and slumberous.

_Once they have chosen a mate, they are forever faithful. _

The thought was the last coherent one that occurred to her, and she wanted to smile, but she was already asleep in his arms.

A few minutes later, the Spongebob Squarepants episode over, Jared trotted over to the bed to check on Seeley. He frowned when he saw Bones cuddled up next to his big brother, but climbed up on the other side of the bed to check on Seeley's fever. He petted Seeley's hair, checking his forehead and cheeks for fever, just like he'd seen Bones do countless times these past few days.

He seemed cooler, which was a relief. It had scared him to see Seeley so weak. He'd mostly slept. Bones had taken him in Seeley's car to get groceries and ice cream, so it hadn't been all bad, but he knew that she hadn't slept much. She was always awake when he went to bed, and she was awake when he woke up in the morning. And, once, he'd woken up in the middle of the night and she'd been awake then to. It was probably a good thing that she was sleeping now, he thought a little sadly, glancing over at her.

She had moved his brother's other arm over her, so it looked like he was holding her. Part of him liked seeing them so close and the other part of him wanted to shove her out of the way. He'd been so sure that she loved Seeley. Why would she not? Seeley was the greatest, despite what he said about himself sometimes.

The frown on his face deepened as he took in his brother's familiar face. He looked a lot like their dad, which he knew Seeley hated. It was unfair for Seeley to get so sick, but it was good that Bones had been here to nurse him. Jared would have been pretty scared if he'd been alone. But part of him wondered if Bones hadn't been there if Seeley wouldn't just have continued going and going until he fell over. He was like that. He knew Seeley wouldn't ever abandon him. He only relaxed enough to be taken care of because Bones had been there to look out for him.

As Jared looked at them, asleep on the bed, he wanted to shake Bones awake and tell her to leave. It would be painful, probably the scariest thing he'd ever done, because he really did love Bones, but he loved Seeley more. And Seeley loved her. If Bones didn't love him back, it would hurt his brother more than anything.

Tears flooded his eyes as he imagined telling the words in his head to Bones, at seeing the hurt expression he knew would fly to her face.

_ "My brother loves you, Bones. But if you don't love him back, you're going to hurt his feelings. I can't have you do that, I just can't. You understand, right? You can't hurt his feelings. Seeley hurts all the time as it is." _

Jared didn't know what to do. He didn't want Bones to stay if she didn't love Seeley. But maybe, if he could get them together, he could make Bones fall in love with Seeley the way he knew Seeley was in love with her.

It could work, even though he knew Seeley had been mad when he'd first gotten his fever. Bones had appeared to forgive him for yelling though, and she'd been so worried about him, Jared had a hard time believing that she didn't know if she was in love with him or not. It was obvious that she did, he finally told himself, pushing away the doubts his conversation with her earlier had allowed to rise.

Jared set his jaw. He was going to fight for Seeley, because he knew Seeley wouldn't do it for himself, not in this case. He'd make sure Bones loved him. Because she did, he decided breathing a sigh of relief. He wouldn't have to give her his speech.

He needed to plan.

* * *

Temperance Brennan hadn't been to class for a few days, Chase Duranceau thought, staring pensively at her empty seat. His black eye was healing up, but the thought of her and that bastard still made him want to punch the nearest object—or person. He wasn't particular, he thought darkly, tuning out the monotone of his professor.

Seeley Booth. The name just filled him with rage. He'd made Chase look like a fool in front of his friends, and he'd kept him from scoring with Temperance. She may have had pretty much zero personality, but she was freaking hot, and he'd wanted her the moment he'd set eyes on her.

He knew she wanted him too, he wasn't stupid. And god damn it, he'd have her too. He could tell by those inexperienced kisses that she was a virgin, and he wanted to be the one to pop that fine cherry.

He thought of her beneath him, naked and hot and he grinned, reveling in the idea of it. Yeah, he'd have her, after he beat the shit out of fucking Seeley Booth. He wasn't stupid, he knew that Booth could probably give him a run for his money, but he knew his buddies would help him out. They had his back. He bought them their freaking booze for Chrissake. They practically groveled at his feet. A snarl ripped across his handsome face when he thought about the bastard. He didn't know if a beating would be good enough. He stewed on the problem all through class, wondering where the hell Temperance was. She never missed class. She had better have a damn good reason for being gone.

Later, when he was hanging out at his friend's apartment, making his way through a bottle of Jack Daniels with his buddies, he casually brought up Temperance Brennan, waiting to hear what his friends would say about her.

"Great tits," Josh, an overgrown moron said immediately, reaching over to refill his glass. Chase rolled his eyes. Like he didn't already know that. He'd fucking almost had her shirt open when Booth blindsided him.

"Thanks, Jackass," Duranceau said dryly, grabbing the bottle before Josh could refill his glass. Ryan, a kid from the hockey team who'd only recently started hanging out with him raised an eyebrow.

"Why'd you want to know about her, Duran?"

"Because I'm going to fucking pop her cherry, that's why," Duranceau responded, the alcohol loosening his tongue.

"I don't know man, I heard she's Booth's girl now," Ryan said, leveling a look at him. Duranceau didn't like that Ryan looked so sober. He shoved the Jack Daniels at him, spilling some as he rammed it into his chest.

"Booth's girl," Duranceau spat, sitting back on the couch. It would only be sweeter when he kicked Booth's ass and banged his girlfriend. Hell, maybe he'd make him watch. He always liked an audience.

He changed the subject then, not wanting the boys to dwell so much on Temperance Brennan and Seeley Booth. If he'd keep them going, inevitably one of the losers would mention his previous… altercation with Booth and that was a surefire way to get him pissed as hell.

"Booth's girl," he repeated to himself derisively.

Not for long.

* * *

**I'm sorry for the delay in this one. I had a devil of a time trying to get it right. Just a couple of things, I did get the idea of a gryphon for Booth's tattoo from the one Angel has in Buffy the Vampire Slayer. It seemed to fit, and I couldn't see Booth getting that kanji he has on his wrist on his shoulder. I'll probably address the tattoo a little later, actually, when Booth regains consciousness. Anyway, as I said, I had a tough time with this chapter, so I hope things turned out alright. Thanks for everything, though, my faithful reviewers! You are wonderful. **


	9. Chapter 9

**It's finally happened, note the rating change from T to M. Thanks for all your wonderful words!**

**Chapter 9**

The first thing Booth became aware of after feeling as if he'd slept for years was the shard of sunlight piercing his vision. The next, and most important thing, was the fact that Temperance Brennan was cuddled in his arms, her head resting right over his rapidly thumping heart.

All else clearly faded.

He was frozen—dear God she felt good covering his body. She fit right in under his arm, her hair tickling the bottom of his chin, and her arm resting on his stomach. He let out a deep breath, trying to remember all the reasons why this was wrong.

He couldn't take his eyes off her. Thick lashes swept her cheekbones as she slept, masking shadows under her eyes. Booth frowned at this, disliking this show of exhaustion and worry. She was dead asleep. He could tell by the heavy way she laid atop him, and her breath fell in a cool exhale on his overheated bare chest.

Booth reluctantly pulled his dark stare from her, checking the clock on the nightstand. It was nearly 10 a.m., but he had no idea what day it was. His hours had passed in a blur of pain and cool hands. He vaguely remembered time passing in an off kilter way, Jared kissing his forehead before school, and trying to help him eat the soup Brennan would heat.

Brennan—she must have been getting Jared to school. The thought relieved him. He didn't need anyone checking into Jared's not-so-typical home life just yet. He was a little more hopeful, however. One of the professors at the law school, a Dr. Greenup, had been answering his tentative questions about legal guardianship candidly and helpfully. The man also didn't pry, which in Booth's book, made him a saint.

Booth groaned when he thought of all the things that he needed to do—the hockey he'd missed, the classes—

His thoughts froze and his eyes darted back to Brennan, astonished. She hadn't been to her classes. She'd always been there when he'd woken. He had some vague recollections of fighting with her before he'd collapsed, and standing in the rain.

As his mind tried to piece together the fragmented pieces of the next past few days, Booth groaned, remembering coming faster now that he was completely lucid.

He remembered slamming his hand on the table where they were studying, and the shock written on her beautiful face. He remembered shouting at her, standing in her way and acting as bullishly as he could, yet she was still here.

Pain streaked his heart as he remembered the angry tears in her eyes and the way she'd shoved him, shaking.

_If you would stop feeling so damn sorry for yourself then you could see what I see! You'd see someone who's worth loving. You're _worthit, _Booth._

Booth skimmed a hand through his hair, closing his eyes with incredulous pleasure as Brennan shifted against him. Her leg moved between his and her hand started idly stroking his stomach. He let out a soft groan at the contact, so sure and possessive in sleep.

When he opened his eyes, willing his morning erection to subside—please, please subside—his gaze met two brilliant blue eyes, finally awake.

"Brennan," he gasped, hoping she wouldn't move her thigh to the left even a centimeter.

"Booth," she murmured sleepily, rubbing like a cat against him. She brushed against his erection and froze, while Booth flopped his head back on the pillow in abject humiliation. His damn body wasn't cooperating. Couldn't it tell he was trying to do what's best for her?

Obviously not.

"How are you feeling?" Brennan asked softly, ignoring his lower half and checking his forehead with her hand. He batted her hand away, still embarrassed. Christ, it wasn't like he was some sixteen-year-old virgin. He was twenty-two and most definitely _not _a virgin. He could handle lying in the same bed as a girl.

It was when that girl was Temperance Brennan, gorgeous without any inkling of it, both smart-assed and just plain smart, that things became a problem.

"Are you embarrassed because you have an erection? That's perfectly normal in the morning, and especially because of you half clothed state. Actually, it has been days since you've ejaculat-"

"_BONES," _Booth shouted, scooting away from her on the bed and glancing around frantically. "Jared. Jared, my _nine-year-old _brother is here… wait, where is Jared?"

Brennan sat up in bed, stifling a yawn as she moved to sit cross-legged across from him. One quick glance down told her his erection had subsided. Obviously, Booth was kind of a prude.

"He's at school, Booth," Brennan said exasperatedly. "It's nearly 10 a.m. It's a Monday. School day."

"How did he get there?" Booth was still a little muzzy. Had Jared ridden the bus? He knew he wasn't allowed to. The thing was graffiti stained and drug ridden, despite the young age of its riders. Booth inwardly rolled his eyes. He was getting more and more crazy parental with each passing day. Pretty soon he'd buy a minivan and lose his sex drive. He let his gaze skim over Brennan, however, dressed in—oh God, was that his shirt? At least he knew he didn't have to worry about the last bit.

"I drove him about an hour ago, Booth," Brennan said, kneeling now and reaching her hand out. She caught his hand easily, shielding his big hand with two of hers. "He told me you don't like him riding the bus."

Finally, Booth found his voice. "I don't like you out alone in this neighborhood, either, Bones," he finally said, his voice low and husky with disuse.

She sniffed, yanking her hands back. "I can take care of myself," she said, crossing her arms across her chest. "Obviously, I've been taking care of you, too."

Not ready to relinquish her when it had felt so good to have her in his arms, Booth snaked his hand to where hers crossed and gave her a gentle tug to fall next to him on the bed. He knew it was wrong, but it felt so damn right.

"I can never repay you enough for all that you did for me, and for Jared," he said, intoxicated by the sight of her head sharing his pillow.

"Yes you can," she whispered, so softly he could barely make out the words. "Don't shut me out, Booth."

"Bren," he started, but she cut him off.

"No, Booth. Listen to me. You have to feel this too," she said urgently. "This… thing between us. I know it's not one sided. Booth, you called out for me in your sleep every night these past few nights."

"You know I care about you," Booth began again, pain, so stark and harsh he could barely breathe knifing his chest. He felt like long slow drags of the knife were slicing through every inch of his heart. "This can't go anywhere, Brennan. I have responsibilities…"

"I'd like to help you with them."

"…And I'm older than you…"

"Hardly. Besides, I'm smarter."

"…People think I'm a murderer…"

"Obviously, I'm not one of them."

Booth stopped talking, having run out of arguments against himself.

"Booth, you make me crazy. You're this out of control aspect in a life I try very hard to manage meticulously. But you've also become my best friend and when I close my eyes at night," Brennan wavered, her self confidence slightly battered by his rebuffs and mixed signals. She continued in a much quieter voice. "When I close my eyes at night… I dream about you and me… you know."

Brennan drifted off and averted her eyes. Booth couldn't stop staring at her. She could spout information about his ejaculation without blinking an eye, but when she confessed dreaming about some nighttime intimacy she couldn't look at him. God, he loved her. The thought, while it should have surprised him, didn't.

He felt the last of his walls crumble under her barrage of total honesty, and he pulled her into his arms, wrapping her tightly in his embrace. She let loose a deep sigh against his bare shoulder and tentatively stroked the hair at the back of his neck.

"You want me, Bones," Booth finally said gruffly, pulling back a little to look into her eyes. She looked young and beautiful and her wearing his shirt was driving him crazy. "If you want me, I'm yours, because I sure as hell can't stay away from you one more second."

He paused, almost as if waiting for her. Incredulous at his density, Brennan sighed and not-so-gently tugged his face to hers. Right before her lips crashed into his, she made sure to clearly enunciate her words.

"I want you."

It was all the encouragement he needed.

* * *

Angela Montenegro really, really didn't know what to think about her stoic, genius roommate suddenly shacking up at Seeley Booth's house, a man with a questionable reputation at best. Not only that, but she wished Brennan would deal with the men in her family herself, Angela thought, sighing as she hung up the phone with Russ Brennan.

Russ had called in a fit of anger, demanding to know why Brennan wasn't taking his calls. She'd made the ultimate roomie mistake, she thought glumly. She'd assumed Russ already knew that she'd been spending the nights at Booth's apartment. When she'd told him, he'd let out a stream of curses that would make a sailor blush.

Luckily she was a Montenegro, and they weren't ruffled easily. She'd tried to reassure Russ, who was kind of cute, incidentally, but the man was implacable.

He'd called back a few minutes ago, all in lather because he'd run a background check on Seeley Booth.

"He was kicked out of two high schools for fighting," Russ had said, without preamble.

"I don't think you're allowed to be telling me this," she'd said, trying to hush him. She didn't want to alienate her best friend. However, once he started talking, she couldn't shush him, and truth be told, she wanted to hear what Russ had to say as much as he wanted to tell her.

"I need you to convince my sister to get away from that troublemaker," Russ continued as if she hadn't spoken. "He was driving the car in the accident that killed his mother. They ruled the death an accident, but everything that boy touches turns to ash, Angela."

"She loves him, Russ," Angela said, dead serious as she pressed her cell phone closer to her ear. She was at the Student Union Building, and she sunk into one of the cushy couches in the lobby, watching the students pass her by.

"Christ, don't say such horrible things, Ange."

"You need to be more supportive if you want to be in her life, Russ."

"Just be careful around him, okay Angela? You know Tempe doesn't have the best taste in guys. I don't know how a girl as smart as she is could be so clueless. The man almost roughed me up outside your apartment the other day."

Angela narrowed her eyes. "Brennan told me that Booth thought you were going to hurt her."

"Exactly. Tempe doesn't belong with a man who could mistake her brother for someone out to harm her. The thought shouldn't even cross his mind. The only thing that bastard's got going for him is that he was sticking up for her, even against me."

Angela felt her heart sink at his words because they held a ring of truth in them. Brennan didn't need to be with a man who saw violence behind every corner.

"I'll pass on your concerns, Russ," she finally said, feeling aged. "And I'll talk to her about Booth."

"Thanks, Ange. I knew I could count on you."

"Yeah, yeah," Angela said softly. She heard his quiet chuckle on the phone and then the line cut out.

Angela leaned back in her chair, not finding any pleasure in people watching. She normally loved sitting in the SUB and watching the students pass by. People didn't notice her when she sat still, and it was like the world whirled around with her frozen in the middle. Like a snow globe, she thought fantastically. Their lives floated around her as wispy and fleeting as the snow and glitter trapped in the glass.

She wanted her paints, she thought idly. Her thoughts right now about Seeley Booth were confusing and it helped to paint. Sometimes she had an easier time expressing her feelings on canvas, in vivid, hued colors as opposed to pale words.

Take Brennan, for example. In Angela's mind, Brennan had her very own canvas filled with the colors of Angela's feelings for her. There were bright greens, tropical shaded hues that hinted at both light and darkness behind the top layer. Russ Brennan had his own, separate canvas, filled with a golden yellow color streaked with black. She still didn't know if the colors on Russ' canvas made her happy or queasy.

Booth's canvas was splattered with harsh slashes of blue, navy like the fabric of a policeman's uniform, a lighter shade the color of the sky at twilight and some murky, unknown color to her.

She still didn't know what she thought about Booth's colors. They were hard-edged, but relatively soothing. The man was an enigma, especially because she was hard pressed to determine what was innuendo and rumor and what was fact.

"Angela?"

She looked up at the deep voice, whiskey smooth. Oh god, this man's colors were a steaming blood red and dark gold. "Chase," she said, meeting his guileless blue eyes. Her eyes had to skim past the body of a god, and part of her couldn't help the flirtatious smile that popped to her lips at the sight of his crooked grin.

"How are you doing? Is your painting still going well?"

Booth's words of warning popped into her mind as she stood to put herself on a more even playing ground with the man, but she muted her internal Booth. When Chase asked her out to dinner a few minutes later, she didn't hesitate before accepting.

As she walked off, her hand on Chase's strong arm, a man sighed pushing his fingers through his curly hair. He should have known his luck at seeing Angela would have to be ruined somehow. Grimacing, Jack Hodgins snapped the rubber band on his wrist, but the action only made him angrier.

Angela Montenegro. The girl had been haunting his dreams for as long as he could remember. Like she'd ever notice him. He was about to leave when he noticed a cell phone on the floor beneath the chair she'd been sitting in.

Her phone. He started to call after her, but thought better of it a moment later. Maybe now he could finally have a conversation with the woman.

Jack picked it up, glad for the excuse he'd have to return it to her.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Seeley usually picked him up in the drive through lane outside Hudson Elementary school, but when Jared walked outside, he didn't see his brother's black Toyota anywhere. Jared paused, shifting his backpack from one arm to the other, and then stood on his tiptoes to see if his brother was just at the end of the line.

No Seeley. For a moment Jared wondered if maybe Bones had come to get him driving a different car, but he didn't see her either. Jared trotted back to the front doors, resigning himself to sit on the steps.

As he sat on the hot concrete, the door opened, a blast of air conditioning ruffling his dark hair. Jared glanced up automatically, his eyes widening when he saw who was walking through the door.

Jenny McCoy!

Yikes!

She looked totally ugly today, with her glossy hair brushed back and her big blue eyes crinkling at the corners as she squinted into the sun. Really, really ugly, Jared thought, entranced. A spray of freckles dappled her nose, and he had this alarming and sudden urge to throw pebbles at her until she looked at him.

Holy Jesus, she was looking at him! Jared quickly looked away, pretending to be interested in the roly poly slinking across the cement. A shadow crossed him, but he refused to glance up. He could feel her standing there, just watching him.

She sat down right next to him. Of course she did. He ignored her.

"Hi Jared," she said, and her voice sounded just like summer, kind of bright, happy, and popsicley.

"Hi Jenny."

"Your brother isn't here?"

"Nope." He studiously avoided eye contact.

"Oh. You know I really liked your brother; he's very handsome. Thanks for inviting me to your birthday party."

It did the trick. Jared's eyes shot off the ground and flew to her face. "What? Seeley? He's not handsome," Jared scowled, biting back the part of him that felt disloyal for saying it. Seeley was… Seeley. He wasn't handsome or ugly. He was just Seeley.

"That's not true, he is handsome! He's like…" Jenny drifted off, trying to think of the correct comparison. "He's like… a prince in a Disney movie, only better because he doesn't wear fancy clothes all the time. So maybe like Aladdin. He's kind of like Aladdin."

"You think my brother is like Aladdin?" Jared asked, nonplussed. He didn't like it.

"Yup."

"That's dumb."

"Are you jealous because I think your brother is handsome?"

"No," Jared said quickly, scowling at her. "You're just a girl. I don't think you know what you're talking about."

"That is so rude, Jared Booth! Now I don't want to do it anymore."

"Huh? Do what?" Jared sat up straighter, trying to figure out what the maddeningly girl was thinking.

Jenny squinted at him, glaring. "No. I'm not going to tell you. Hey-" Jenny cut off, her gaze clearing from anger as she looked over at the playground. "Isn't that your brother now?"

Jared looked over at the playground, stifling a groan. _What was his brother doing? _He was going to have to have a long talk about boundaries when he got him home.

"He's playing on the playground! With that girl. I liked her too."

_This is embarrassing, SEELEY. _Jared berated his brother in his head, grudgingly standing when Jenny hopped to her feet. They started walking to the playground. He was still smarting from Jenny's confession that she found his brother to be handsome and…. Aladdin-like. That was so dumb. Aladdin wasn't even real.

She was _so _ugly, he thought savagely, as they walked to the playground. So ugly she was kind of pretty. And he didn't like her at all, except for the very large part of him that liked her too much.

"That's Bones, his _girlfriend,_" Jared said, placing a big emphasis on the world girlfriend. Okay, he didn't know if it was true, but he was sure it would be soon. Besides, he didn't like this whole Jenny-thinking-Seeley-was-handsome thing she was doing.

"Yes, his _girlfriend,_" Jared repeated, desperately filling her disconcerting silence with words, lies and all. "They might get married. And she told me once that she gets really, really mad if anyone else thinks Seeley is handsome. She's an older woman," Jared said meaningfully. _Older than me, _he amended with a guilty sigh. He knew Seeley was older than Bones.

They crested the hill, the playground looming before them. Jared could hear Seeley's big laugh, and it brought an involuntary smile to his face. Despite the fact that the girl he liked—hated—liked, thought he was _handsome_, and even though it was embarrassing to have his brother running around like a little kid on the playground with Bones, he loved seeing him happy.

Seeley was pushing Bones on the swings, pushing her hard and fast until she was swinging nearly as high as it would go. Jared watched in a sort of oddly paternal amusement as Seeley stopped pushing her, dodging her flailing legs and moving to stand in front of her. He could hear Seeley from where he was, and Jared couldn't take his eyes off his brother's grinning face. He'd been sick for the past few days, and even before that, he couldn't remember ever seeing Seeley look so carefree and happy.

"Jump!" Seeley was saying to Bones, holding out his arms encouragingly.

"No! Booth, no. I'll knock you down."

"No you won't, just jump!"

Jared glanced to the side to see what Jenny was looking at. She was looking at him, the breeze ruffling her hair.

"They're funny," she said, giving a little laugh.

_She smelled like vanilla and cookies. Mmm…_

Jared corked his wayward thoughts and rolled his eyes. "Aren't you jealous of her? Because he's so _handsome?"_

Jenny smiled at him, making his stomach flip flop.

"I'm not jealous of her, silly, because I think you're even more handsome."

With that, she blushed, her smile turning shy. "Bye, Jared. My mom's here."

And with that, she took off down the hill, running like the hounds of hell were at her feet. Jared stood in a shocked numbness. _What did she just say? _

Near the swings, Brennan finally acquiesced to Booth's teasing and jumped, knocking him down flat as he tried to catch her.

She landed on top of him with an oomph, and as Jared watched, she gave a little laugh and brushed her hair out of his eyes. He then leaned up and kissed her, right there on the playground.

Jared swung around, pushing both hands through his hair.

Whoa, whoa, whoa.

Too much going on right now.

Way… too… much.

Jenny McCoy thought he was _handsome._

His brother just kissed Bones.

_Jenny McCoy thought he was _handsome.

Jared sat down abruptly on the grass. He needed to digest all this. His brain might explode. He stole a glance over to his brother and saw that Bones had gotten off of him, and that he was smiling at her in that way he did. Jared knew Seeley's different smiles like he knew the signature moves of every Pokémon.

Darn well.

Seeley had his normal smile, which he typically showed to the world, but Jared also knew he had a broader, more charming smile that he used to get his way. Seeley also had a hard, angry smile that he used when he was trying to intimidate people in their neighborhood who played their music too loudly and cursed around Jared. That smile terrified the bejeepers out of him.

Jared had his own Seeley-smile, which he knew Seeley only used around him, which was nice, but he'd never seen Seeley smile like he did when he was with Bones. It was softer, almost not even a smile, and Jared felt oddly excluded when Seeley would look at Bones that way.

Finally, Bones turned her head to the side and spotted Jared sitting atop the hill, his backpack sprawled next to him. She nudged Seeley's side and he checked his wristwatch, jumping guiltily.

Jared waited for them to collect themselves and make their way over to him, still a little shell-shocked by it all. He was unbelievably happy for Seeley, because this meant he wouldn't have to chase Bones off if she broke his brother's heart. Plus, he really couldn't remember ever seeing his brother so flustered and content. He was holding Bones' hand as they walked toward him, almost like he couldn't bear to let her go. Jared studied them as they approached, noting the way Seeley's big hand completely enveloped Bones' tiny one. For a minute Jared wasted his time wondering how small Jenny's hands might be. He wanted to find out at school tomorrow.

Seeley and Bones finally reached him, looking a little chagrined.

"Sorry, J, I lost track of time. I meant to be at the front when you got out of school," Booth began with a noncommittal tone.

Feeling like a parent, which he'd been feeling like more and more lately, Jared shook his head and laughed, the wild butterflies he'd had in his stomach since Jenny had left lessening. "It's okay. I'm glad you're feeling better, Seeley. Can we NOW go to the diner, Bones?" Jared wheedled, giving Brennan his own charming smile.

"I told him we had to wait for you to get better," Brennan said by manner of explanation to Booth.

"Darn right you did," Booth concurred, reaching over to pluck Jared's backpack from him. "I'll carry this. Tell me about your day, Jared."

As Jared began to chatter, he felt better, more normal and less like parent/recipient of a Jenny McCoy compliment. He tugged on Bones' hand, beyond relieved that she was still there and obviously in love with his brother.

Things had been so dark for so long, Jared thought. They were finally turning around.

* * *

Jack Hodgins felt like the original and ultimate creeper as he watched Chase Duranceau knock on the door to Angela's apartment later that night. The man was dressed in a crisp buttoned up shirt, his hair perfectly coiffed. He twisted a single red rose around his fingers, a self-assured grin on his face. _What a douchebag. _

This was a stupid idea, he thought sullenly as he shuffled the grocery bag of takeout behind his back. He had Angela's cell phone in his pocket, having guiltily ignored calls to it throughout the day. He knew Angela was probably trying to call it, but he had wanted to bring it to her in person.

He'd met Angela Montenegro last semester, in the Speech/Communications course that was mandatory for students in Bachelor of Arts and Bachelor of Science programs. It was a massive lecture class of two hundred, but the class was broken up into smaller groups taught by Teaching Aides. She had sat next to him all semester, and because their small groups were determined by seats, she'd been in his speaking group as well. He'd thought she was gorgeous the moment she'd sat down and introduced herself, but he hadn't really began to obsess over her until she'd given a speech on some wild theory on art, sexuality and Freud.

The girl was utterly fearless, and Jack had been hooked. He began to think of things to make her laugh, and he brushed up on his knowledge of art, which was pretty much zero. He was even taking an art history course this semester, Jack thought wryly, a totally unnecessary addition to the 18 hours of advanced sciences he was already taking. The woman had him spellbound. They were friends, though, and Jack was content with that.

Well, he had been until he'd seen her waltz off with Chase Duranceau, the smarmy jackass of the century. He had no idea why every male knew Duranceau was bad news, while the females of the species still remained clueless.

God. Women. Insects were a lot easier to understand. Male insects especially. Female Praying Mantises ate the male's heads while they mated, which was grisly and sadistic and wholly unnecessary. Women were sick. Even the insect world had its crazies. All female, of course.

All of his pre-Feminist musings disappeared when the door opened a few moments after Duranceau's knock. Jack had a rough time even catching his breath. Angela looked… god, she looked freaking gorgeous.

That dress… that slit up the side… The entire thing looked like it should be wholesome and appropriate, but the porchlight revealed a flash of bare thigh when she walked, and a glimpse of sun-bronzed cleavage when she bent to retrieve her purse. The damn dress was exactly like Angela herself. Angela Montenegro looked like she should be frolicking with the angels, only the wicked tilt of her brown eyes betrayed her.

Jack wanted to shove her inside and wrap her in a comforter, away from Duranceau's appreciative gaze. Furiously snapping the rubber band on his wrist, Jack dropped the food where he stood. Chinese food exploded on the cement, but he left it there. If she wanted to go out with Duranceau, then she could wait and get her phone later, Jack thought snidely, his lip curling with disgust. He pushed back his concern as he tried to focus on his anger.

Duranceau had a rough reputation with women. He wasn't above getting them drunk to take advantage of them. Jack gnashed his teeth. It was her own damn fault for agreeing to go out with him. She was a big girl who could take care of herself.

He couldn't follow them. That'd be ridiculous. That would be creepy. That would be…

Aw, hell.

Jack vaulted over the low gate to the left of him, dashing to where he'd parked his Mustang. He had to hurry if he was going to catch them on the road. He jumped in, and the engine roared to life.

There was no fucking way Chase Duranceau was going to be taking any liberties with Angela tonight, he thought savagely. He found Duranceau's car on the street and stayed behind it, a guilty and self-righteous flush on his cheeks. He'd just double check where he was taking her. If they went to a restaurant, that was fine, he'd leave them alone. If he tried anything else, Duranceau would have to face the wrath of a seriously pissed off Jack Hodgins. He might be a little shorter than the guy, but he was sure as hell smarter, and he knew his rage would make him into a formidable opponent.

He felt vindicated when Duranceau pulled into a bar. The place was nice enough, but it was still a bar. They still sold primarily alcohol with a few appetizers. Jack had heard enough of Duranceau's escapades to know that he wasn't above ordering drinks extra strong and preying on women who didn't know their own tolerance.

Well Angela, Jack thought bitterly. Congratulations. You've got a date with Duranceau and your very own watchdog compliments yours truly.

He was going to watch that man like a hawk.


	11. Chapter 11

**Thanks everyone for being so patient with me! I know I'm super behind on my review replies. As soon as I post this, I'm going to start working on them. I figured you'd want this chapter more than a reply from me, however. :) Plus, it's a LONG chapter. And _especially_ because... well, there's a little nookie in this one. :) Note the M rating. It's not just for language anymore. **

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 11**

Angela grinned at the man across the scuffed table from her. She made a grab for her Dos Equis, having never liked beer much until this very night. It was warm, but tangy, and she didn't much mind it when it made Chase look so attractive. When they'd first arrived at the bar, he'd lost some major points, but four beers later, he was forgiven.

Chase Duranceau looked hot and she knew she did. They practically burned up the table. He'd been charming all evening, paying for their drinks and letting her pick both of their appetizers.

She leaned in a little, smiling when he did the same. She had originally agreed to let him take her to dinner because she wanted to see for herself Chase's character. She hadn't forgotten Booth's words of warning, and if she found out that Chase was anything less than the upstanding gentlemen he appeared to be, she'd cut off his dick.

Giggling a little at the grotesque thought, Angela dimly realized that she might be a little intoxicated. She had definitely decided that Chase was A-OK though. He looked so damn fine tonight. Mmmm… Her thoughts blurred a little, as she thought about her roommate. She'd barely even seen Brennan in the past few weeks. She'd spent every spare moment at _Booth's _place. That was usually fine, but it wasn't any fun to have roomie movie nights when it was just Angela and the pint of Cherry Garcia.

Forcing her petulant thoughts aside, Angela was beginning to seriously wonder what had gone on at that party so long ago. All she'd known is that one day Brennan had been fine and normal, and the next, she was all starry-eyed because of Seeley Booth. Something had happened that night, and Chase had ended up beaten by the end of it.

Booth's words echoed in her head, even above the loud chatter and the piano man taking requests on the stage.

_Chase Duranceau was taking advantage of her at that party. Whatever he's told you, it's a lie, okay? A lie. _

The words sobered her somewhat, as she remembered the vehemence and utter conviction in his voice. Wait, Chase was speaking to her.

"—roommate been doing lately?"

Angela drew a blank on what he'd been saying, and squinted at him, wordlessly asking him to repeat himself. Chase chuckled, reaching across the table to link their fingers.

"I said, what have you and your roommate been doing lately? I've noticed she hasn't been to class lately and I've been kind of concerned about her. Has she been sick?"

Just like that, her anger was back, Booth's words pushed to the back of her head. She'd been missing classes? That was not acceptable. She was _Temperance Brennan_, not…. Angela Montenegro! _Angela _could skip classes. _Brennan_ could not. Christ, Brennan thrived in class. She was the only girl Angela knew who actually enjoyed getting assigned term papers.

Looking up for the first time in a few long minutes, she met Chase's eyes over their empty beer bottles. His eyes were ocean blue and guileless, fringed with gorgeous eyelashes. Nature had really laid it on thick with this guy.

"What's wrong, Ange?" He asked, his voice whispering over her like the smoothest liquor.

"Oh, it's just," Angela hesitated, and then took a fortifying gulp of her beer. Enough was enough. She was pissed at Brennan. Chase was just going to have to sit and listen. "Ugh. It's just Brennan, my roommate. I can't believe she's been missing classes."

Chase raised one eyebrow, signaling discreetly to their waitress to bring them two more beers. "You didn't know?"

"Of course I didn't know," Angela exploded, glaring at him balefully. "How can I know _anything _about my roommate when I haven't seen her for more than two seconds in weeks? She's practically living at Seeley Booth's house."

The moment the last sentence was out of her mouth, she regretted it. She didn't want Chase to think Brennan was a slut. She was pretty sure Brennan and Booth weren't actually doing it.

Pretty sure, anyways.

"_Seeley Booth?_" Chase bit out, looking upset.

Angela winced. "I don't like it much either. She's tutoring him in biology or something."

The frown on Chase's face deepened. "Yeah. Biology. More like anatomy."

"Hey, it's not like that," Angela reprimanded him sharply. She didn't like Chase thinking bad things about Brennan. She was the only one she wanted doing that.

"Oh how is it like then, Angela? Do you honestly think Seeley Booth has her over at his place day and night to _talk _with her? Because he likes her company? C'mon, you gotta know he's probably banging her."

The vulgarity looked as out of place coming from Chase's firm lips as coarse language from a child. He looked like an angel, but Angela didn't like the things coming from his mouth.

"Excuse me, Duranceau, but that's my best friend you're talking about," she said, standing up sharply. The ground swayed below her, and she stumbled, catching onto the table for support.

Chase gave her a conciliatory smile that didn't meet his eyes. "I'm sorry Angela, sit back down. Here, I'll get you another drink." He returned a minute later with a glass filled with ice and an amber liquid. "An iced tea. You might want to slow down with the drinking."

Glaring at him, Angela snatched the tea and took a sip. "There's alcohol in this," she said, her head still whirling from her quick jump upwards.

"It's called a Long Island Iced Tea," Chase explained. "Hardly any alcohol. So about Brennan. You say she's been spending her nights with Booth?"

Angela nodded hesitantly, her mind whirling. Chase looked both gorgeous and dangerous now, like some kind of veil had shifted off of him. She didn't like the way his jaw set so tightly, and the way he smiled through it. It looked creepy.

"I can't believe she'd choose that fucker over me," Chase hissed, taking a long swig of his beer. When Angela made a move to stand up again, Chase casually reached a hand over and yanked her back down. Hard.

Her elbows slammed on the wood table and she could feel the bruising pressure of his phantom fingers on her wrist. Angela made another move to leave, but Chase simply grabbed her wrist again, his fingers tightening painfully over the spots where finger shaped bruises were already forming.

"Sit down, bitch. Why would she choose someone like Booth over someone like me?" he asked this with a sort of calm intensity that scared Angela to death. She opened her mouth to yell at him, when he suddenly smacked her hard across the face, her cry muffled by the crowd.

"Say anything and I'll fucking hit you again," Chase warned. He stood, throwing some bills on the table and dragging her up with him. Her cheek burned, but before the bruise could even form, Chase leaned over and grinded his lips against hers, a grin forming on his face when she struggled. "I like it rough, Ange."

Angela's thoughts spiraled wildly, her heart slamming against her chest. Dear God. Booth had been right. _Booth had been right._ Duranceau was a madman. She shoved against him, pushing him away with all her strength. He didn't even budge.

Whimpering a little in distress, and nauseated beyond belief, Angela braced herself to bite down hard on his lip, waiting for the taste of blood to explode in her mouth.

Suddenly the cruel, bruising pressure on her lips was gone, and she opened her eyes wide as someone grabbed Duranceau and shoved him away from her. Quick as lighting, Chase had doubled back and punched her savior square in the face, and the man went down like a sack of potatoes.

Angela had only a glimpse of Duranceau's cruel smile as he turned and sauntered away. People were crowding her and her hero, finally having noticed a commotion in their midst.

Ignoring the pain exploding in her cheek, Angela crawled across the sawdust-covered floor to the man who had saved her. He had blood streaming down his nose, obscuring the lower part of his face, but she'd know those blonde curls anywhere.

"Jack Hodgins," she said, looking down at him with a smile on her face. It hurt, but that was okay. Jack Hodgins looked pretty frightening, sawdust and peanut shells in his hair and twin streams of bright vermillion streaking from his nose. His nose was already turning an impressive shade of purple. "My hero," she said, brushing the worst of the sawdust and who knows what else from his hair. She helped him sit up, tilting his head back gently to try and stop the bleeding.

"Hi Angela," he said, his voice muffled. "What's a girl like you doing in a place like this?"

His lighthearted words, designed to make her smile, made tears spring to her eyes. "You're a brave man, Jack. Thanks for your help." She was horrified to find that she was sniffling. She'd never been hit before. It wasn't so much that it hurt… the shock of it though, the blinding betrayal was wrecking havoc with her nerves.

"Don't just STAND there, get me some ice and napkins," Angela suddenly yelled at the crowd, dispersing them like bowling pins with the bite in her voice.

She moved Hodgin's head to rest on her shoulder, keeping his head back as she dabbed at the blood coating his jawline and nose. For some reason the man had this big smile on his face, as genuine as she now knew Chase's had been false.

"What're you smiling at? You just got punched in the face in a bar," Angela said, his smile almost infectious. Almost.

"You're an angel," Hodgins replied simply, giving her that silly grin. Angela paused, checking his head for any contusions.

"I need a phone," Angela demanded, after she had cleaned up the worst of Hodgin's blood. "Now."

Hodgins tossed her one, and she was startled to find it was her own.

"How did you—nevermind. Jack, we've got to call Brennan and warn her that Duranceau's looking for her." She pressed the phone to her ear, cursing like a sailor when it went straight to voicemail.

"She has the damn thing _off._ What is the point of a cell phone if you ever turn it off?"

"Where would she be?"

"Seeley Booth's place."

"Well let's get the hell there," Hodgins said gamely, straightening with a groan. He grabbed a handful of tissues in case his nose busted open again—a very distinct possibility—and dragged her to the door. "Let's go sound the alarms."

* * *

Booth was finding it very hard to think.

"Uhhmmm… The Galapagos…. The Beagle…. Darwin."

Booth groaned his appreciation as his biology tutor proceeded to reward his correct answer with a slow, deep kiss that left him stunned and hard as a rock. Brennan was sitting sideways on his lap, one hand around his neck, the other possessively on the biology book.

"I'm not sure I should count that as a correct answer. That was more of a stream of consciousness exercise," Brennan joked, her eyes bright with merriment. He'd missed her, God.

"You know Bones, I'm feeling a lot more charitable toward biology with those kinds of incentives," Booth joked, trying to discreetly shift her on his lap so she wouldn't feel his erection. By the way she was grinning at him, with a sort of devious tilt to her lips and a sparkle in her eyes, he knew he'd failed.

He hoped to God Jared would stay in the bathroom and not come back out. He'd hate to scar the kid for life. Luckily, his brother was famous for his hour-long baths, in which he'd steal all the hot water, splash around in the tub, sing and generally have the time of his life.

Booth suddenly slammed the book shut and gathered her in his arms, grinning as she shrieked her displeasure. Brennan pretended she was above enjoying being schlepped around like a caveman's mate, but he knew better. He mock-growled and deposited her on the bed, kissing her protesting lips.

"This is my kind of biology," he laughed, skimming his palm down her arm until he could tangle their fingers together. She shivered at the friction of his callused palm against her skin, pulling back a moment to look into his eyes.

Booth was wearing a white T-shirt with his black basketball shorts, and to the casual observer, she knew he looked dangerous. The griffon tattoo gleamed on his tanned bicep, drawing her gaze to the ropes of muscle filling out his arms and chest. He hadn't shaved yet, and a delicious five o clock shadow dusted his strong jaw. His eyes were dark, nearly hooded as he stared at her, his laughter giving way to his own lusty perusal of her.

She felt her stomach contract, with butterflies or something much bigger. Brennan moved her free hand to cup his jaw, letting his stubble tickle her palm as her fingers stroked delicately at the tender place where his jawline met his ear.

"Booth," she murmured, watching his eyelids flutter as she stroked his face. Amazing. A few deft strokes of her fingertips and the bad boy was down for the count, practically purring in her arms.

"Yes?" he murmured. His fingers tightened on hers infinitesimally.

"How old were you when you first, uh, you know."

Booth froze, wondering if she was really asking what he thought she was asking. In his brief silence, Brennan started talking again, making her point clear.

"Had sex. Sexual intercourse," she clarified, leaning forward against him to hide her blush in his big shoulder.

Booth sighed, rubbing his jaw. She wanted to know about his sex life. Great. He felt her nose poke his chest as she burrowed against him, and he could see the flush turning the tips of her ears pink. Booth couldn't help but smile, a tender, affectionate smile that felt unfamiliar on his lips.

He pulled her out from the refuge of his shoulder and leaned back against the headboard, tucking her under his arm. Their feet stretched out on the bed, hers ending quite a bit before his. He stared at the bright pink nail polish on her toes for a long while before he answered.

"And I want to know how many girls, too," she added, before she lost her nerve. Booth glanced at her sharply, and she gave him a small smile that had him groaning in defeat.

"Booones," he drew her nickname out, hoping but not really believing her could get her to forget the line of questioning if he teased her. Nope. She was having none of it.

"Fine," Booth sighed, keeping his eyes straight ahead. "I lost my virginity when I was fifteen."

Brennan swallowed hard. "That young?" Then, before her eyes, something miraculous happened. He was _blushing. _

"Yes, that young," he repeated, scrubbing his hair with his hand in a way she realized he did when he was uncomfortable. "She was a few years older than me. I was mowing the grass at her dad's house when one day she just pulled me in the shed and… well," he trailed off.

"Did you see her again after that?"

Booth shook his head, looking a little less uncomfortable now that the truth was out there. "No, I mean I tried. I was infatuated with her. But I guess she was just scratching an itch."

He was unprepared for the sudden fury that erupted in his arms. Brennan whirled out from her comfortable perch under his arm to face him. "She took your virginity to _scratch an itch?_ What kind of vile, perverted girl would do such a thing to a fifteen year old!"

Watching her rile up at his behalf, Booth felt his heart swell, and he hauled her back to him. "It doesn't matter, Brennan," he murmured in her ear, squeezing her tightly against his chest. "Nothing matters but the here and now. I love you, sweetheart," he whispered, the words popping out before he could claw them back. She froze in his arms, backing up stare at him.

She looked so young in that instant, he thought, that his heart hurt. God, he really did love her. Her hair was falling out of her ponytail, her lips were a little swollen from their kisses, and her blue eyes were wide.

"Say it again," she said, biting her lip.

"I love you." The words came easier a second time. She closed her eyes and smiled, and when she opened them, she saw that he was looking at her with that affectionate smile he sometimes gave her. Well, he pretty much always gave her that smile. She snuggled back against him. He didn't seem to expect the words back, and she didn't know if she was ready to say them. She was, however, ready for something else.

"Booth," she murmured, running her fingers along his thigh. She watched in fascination as the muscles clenched then relaxed, and she could feel his breathing hitch and do the same.

"Yes?"

"Be my first and make love to me," she whispered. She could feel him jerk next to her, her words obviously shocking him. "I know Jared's here, so not now, but… soon, Booth."

She craned her neck to look at him, and she could see that she'd pretty much bowled him over. His mouth was open and he couldn't seem to catch his breath.

"Brennan, you don't need to feel pressured just because I said I love you," he said, kissing her hair and trying to steady his breathing. "I'll wait as long as you want, Bones. Forever, if I have to, because we have all the time in the world. I'm not going anywhere."

"Booth, I am ready," she said, shaking her head at his obtuseness. "Why do you think I asked you all those questions?" She paused, trying to decide what part of his words she needed to tackle next. Now that the truth was out, it was much easier to look at this empirically and with logic. "I'm not letting you out on that 'how many' question, either, mister, but we can talk about that later. Right now… It's true, Booth. I know… I know you want to protect me, but I want my first to be you. I don't trust anyone but you to make it less like biology and more like… breaking the laws of physics."

"Breaking the laws of physics?" Booth couldn't help the smile that appeared on his face. "Is that a science-y come on?"

"No, it's like…" she froze, trying to think of the right word. She couldn't grip it, but it was right there. She met Booth's eyes and saw that the humor had fled from them.

"A miracle?" he finished for her, his voice rough.

She nodded.

Booth groaned and pulled her to him, letting her head rest on his chest while he intertwined their fingers and rested their joined hands on his abdomen. "Brennan, how is it that you know just what to say to turn me into a mess?" he murmured into her hair. The air from the fan beat lazily, ruffling their hair.

"Talent, I guess," she said, her eyes weighing down in comfort. She felt like a great weight had been taken off her chest now that she'd finally told Booth what she wanted. She didn't know if he had acquiesced or not, but she was pretty sure he wouldn't take much convincing. Besides, now he was thinking about it, which was just pure fun in its own right.

He surprised her though, by speaking in a low voice near her ear, his voice rough as sandpaper. "If I was making love to you right now, you know what I'd do first?"

Brennan gasped at his words, and then melted back into him, trying to contain her wildly jumping pulse. "What?" she mouthed, the words coming out as a squeak.

He growled low in her ear before continuing, the vibrations from his words rumbling through her. "I'd take off every stitch of your clothing, Brennan, and just look at you until you couldn't stand the heat of my gaze a minute longer," he said, giving her hand a chaste pat.

She moaned, a soft little sound that startled her because she'd never made it before.

"And then, I'd kiss every inch of you, because I love your taste," he murmured. "Starting at your temple, where your smarty pants brain would be whirring a mile a minute and moving to your cheeks, your ears, your nose," he paused, looking down on her seriously. "Did you know I love your nose, Bones? It's so damn cute."

"No, I wasn't aware," she mumbled breathlessly, waiting for him to continue. She was tingling all over and his hands were still innocently clasping hers. Every so often he'd rub them a little.

"And then your mouth, Brennan. I'd spend forever there, tasting you. You're so sweet, baby."

She couldn't even protest the nickname. This had all started to abruptly, but now she was turned on beyond reason and they were barely touching.

"By the time I'd reach your breasts, you'd be panting and crying out, Brennan. And by that time you know I wouldn't be able to take much more of it either. Your hands would be pulling at my shirt and I'd help you, but as soon as the damn thing was gone, I'd be suckling your breasts, desperate to taste you there, too."

Booth stretched beneath her, and she could feel the ridge of his erection pressing against her bottom. He seemed unphased by it, however, and continued speaking.

"So soft, Bones. It'd be torture to leave your breasts, but your belly, and… lower," he let out a dark chuckle that made her moan again, a little louder. "How could I resist you _there_? Because I can smell your arousal, Bones, and it's making me so damn hot I can't even remember my own name," he gasped, his voice a little unsteady for the first time. She couldn't even tell if he was still speaking about the story or present time. She was drenched, and he probably could smell her.

"You'd want me down there, Bones. You'd push my head down between your legs and demand it. And God, how can I deny you the thing I want most of all?"

Brennan whimpered, and she wanted to touch herself. Booth was keeping a firm grip on her hands, however, so she pressed back against him, trying to find a counterpressure for the ache between her thighs.

"You'd see my dark head beneath your ivory thighs, but you wouldn't know what to expect," Booth said raggedly, finding it harder to concentrate with her grinding against his very real erection. "I'd, ah, I'd taste you then, and Christ," Booth let out a curse as Brennan tugged her hand from his and he watched it disappear beneath her sweatpants. He could see the outline of her through her pants, rubbing her clit.

"Fuck," he murmured, finding that he couldn't finish his story. He instead wrapped his hands more firmly around her, exhaling into her neck and watching her for a moment in her uninhibited passion. Seconds later she stiffened and let out a breathless cry that he stifled with a kiss. He was unbearably hard and in danger of coming right then and there. How had this gotten so out of control? He had just been trying to tease her, to try and test how ready she was—oh!

Brennan had turned in his arms to face him and was panting into his shoulder, her face flushed and her eyes sparkling. He tried to make a grab for her fingers when he saw where they were headed, but they wrapped around his penis through the flimsy material of his basketball shorts before he could stop her, and he let out a loud groan that he _knew _Jared probably heard but, oh sweet Jesus—

KNOCK. KNOCK.

Booth froze, the sound jolting him violently from his imminent eruption. He met Brennan's wide-eyed gaze and was opening his mouth to speak when the door busted in, wood splintering everywhere.

His gaze flew to the door and he shoved himself in front of Brennan, horror darkening his features.

_No! It couldn't be. Not now. Not… now._

* * *

**Whew. Writing the slightest bit of smut is like pulling teeth for me. I love to read it, but man is it ever hard to write.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

The minute the door crashed open, Booth stood at attention, every inch of him assessing the threat. The door now lay on the floor, the wooden frame splintered and jagged.

A man stood in the wreckage, tall and dark, looming over the mangled remains of the door. He was still strong, Booth saw, and still mean as a snake. Ignoring the panic racing through his veins at the sight of the man, he stood his ground, no tremor betraying his fear.

"Get the fuck out of here," Booth hissed to his father, blindly reaching behind him to pull Brennan firmly behind him. He stroked a palm reassuringly down her side, finding her hand to give it a squeeze. Weighing the situation and trying to determine exactly how drunk his father might be, his eyes darted to the bathroom, where he knew Jared was still bathing.

_Get Brennan out. Get Jared out. _They were the only thoughts distinguishable in his tangled mind, and he had to get them out of here before he could even begin to think about how to deal with his father. The man was swaying, and Booth could smell the alcohol on him from his spot across the room.

Whatever the reason for Sam Booth's homecoming, it wasn't out of any fatherly love for his sons. The bastard wanted something, and Booth knew from experience that his old man played fast and loose with his blows. There wasn't a chance in hell he'd let the man lay a finger on Jared or Brennan. He'd kill the bastard first.

"What kind of fucking greeting is tha'?" His old man slurred, giving Booth a nasty grin as he stumbled into the small apartment. The man's upper lip curved over his yellowing teeth in a sneer as he gazed at his son in disgust. "But you always were a fuck up, Seeley. Worried your mama to death with your drinking and whoring and bad grades."

Keeping a wary eye on his father, Booth reached behind him and grabbed his keys from the nightstand, taking care to grip them tightly so they didn't jingle. He pressed the keys into Brennan's palm, a sort of ragged coolness descending over him. His father was taking in the place, and Booth took full advantage of the brief respite.

"Take Jared and get the both of you out of here, Brennan," Booth murmured to her, deadly serious. She couldn't see his face, but she'd never felt him so tense. He stood like a streetfighter, wary and ready. For a moment he took his eyes off his father and met her fearful gaze. He knew she'd surmised who the man was, even before they'd started talking. His father was his mirror image, a frightening caricature of himself. Watching his father, the man who was his double in almost every way, drunk and mean was just like watching himself, and damned if he didn't feel every blow—emotional and physical- all the more keenly for it.

"I'm not leaving you here with him, Booth," Brennan whispered furiously into his ear. She gripped the keys tightly in her palm, watching with horror as Booth's father turned on them both, a nasty smile on his once-handsome face.

"I mean it, Brennan," Booth hissed, and this time she didn't argue. "Get my car, take Jared and go to your place. Lock the doors and wait for me to come get you. Don't call the police. I can't let them take Jared from me, okay? I can't."

He was turning slightly, keeping Brennan behind his body with a firm grip on her arm and trying to angle Brennan closer to the bathroom where Jared was.

"I see you haven't given up your low down ways, Seeley," his father spat, rifling through the drawers in the kitchen. He appeared to be looking for something. "Sniffing at her skirts while your brother stays in the bathroom? For all your damn preaching, you're some fucking paragon."

Booth stiffened when his father mentioned Jared's hiding place. He had been hoping his father wouldn't have noticed the light spilling out from under the door. He knew Jared must have some semblance of what was going on. He just prayed his courageous little brother wouldn't try anything heroic before Brennan could get to him.

"That girl you have cowering behind you is a hot piece of ass though," his father drawled, taking no heed of his son's sudden snarl. "How's about you share some of that lovin' with your old man?"

His hands fisted with rage, Booth growled and took a step closer to his father. The man had stopped rifling through the kitchen drawers and was walking across the room to meet him halfway.

"Disrespect her again and I'll rip your head off," Booth said, his voice perfectly even. A cold undercurrent of steel laced his words, and Brennan realized from her spot behind him that he meant every single word.

Swallowing the fear that threatened to freeze her in her tracks, Brennan twisted the knob to the bathroom door, only to find it locked.

"Jared, let me in," she hissed, rattling the handle and trying not to draw attention to them. It was impossible in the cramped apartment. Brennan made the mistake of glancing up and her heart stopped momentarily as she met Booth's father's eyes, glittering with malice. No matter how frightening it would have been for it to be anyone to be there squaring off against Booth, when the monster wore a twisted visage of Booth's face it knocked her in the gut.

Screwing up her courage, Brennan met his hateful gaze and casually as she could, flipped him the bird.

The door slipped open behind her and she felt herself being yanked in by Jared's small hands. Her last glimpse was of Booth's father mouthing some words to Booth that she couldn't hear, but they clearly incited him. Booth let out a guttural roar and slammed into his father, but the door firmly shut and blocked her view.

Fear icing her veins, Brennan twisted around to see Jared scrambling into his shorts and T-shirt. He was still soaking wet, and he had no shoes or socks to put on. She caught a glimpse of his pale face right before it disappeared for a moment as he tugged his T-shirt on. Her gaze caught on his wiry little body, a body that suddenly looked too thin and vulnerable. She had to protect this boy no matter what, she suddenly realized, the responsibility weighing heavily in her hands. Behind her, through the thin wood of the door, she could hear the sounds of an argument and then a heavy thud of flesh on flesh. A punch had been thrown.

Brennan realized she was trembling with fear for Booth as she waited for Jared to finish getting dressed. She palmed the keys from hand to hand, trying to stop the relentless quaking. His father wanted something and Booth was standing in the way. She knew without consciously thinking about it that Booth would literally die before he let his father go after her and Jared. The thought, instead of being comforting, rattled her more than she could say.

She looked up to see Jared as ready to go as he'd get, and Brennan hesitated before checking the door. Her gaze caught on the small window, and she thought fast. She had to calm herself down if she was going to be any help to Booth. Taking a deep, cleansing breath, Brennan moved to the window, glancing down to see if going out of it would be a viable option.

Hmm… Booth's apartment wasn't second story, per say, but the foundation was high, and there was a small flight of steps leading to the front door. It was about a ten foot drop to the ground, but there was concrete below. She didn't want to risk it, especially with Jared. A muffled bellow and a crash sounded from the room beyond them, and Brennan grabbed Jared's T-shirt, halting him in mid bolt for the door.

"That no-account is hurting my brother, Bones," Jared shouted, viciously fighting against her restraining arms. "I have to go help him."

"He's letting us escape, Jared. _Listen to me,"_ Brennan forced his head to look at her. "We're going to get safe and then I'm going to call my brother to help Booth, okay? He's FBI."

Jared's eyes widened in respect. "But your brother doesn't really like Seeley, Bones."

Brennan's eyes shuttered. "He'll help him. Now we need to get out of here and I'm going to need your help, Jared. It's really important."

A flash of inspiration struck, and Brennan relentlessly preyed on Jared's weakness. "I'm going to need someone to protect me as we escape, okay? You're going to have to keep me safe." The words, so unlike her, nearly stuck in her throat, but by the sudden blaze of fury and protectiveness in Jared's brown eyes, she knew she had struck paydirt. The boy was just like his brother. It was the best compliment she could think of.

After that last crash, she'd decided against the front door. The window would have to do. She couldn't afford to distract Booth. The sounds in the next room were escalating, and Brennan relentlessly pushed her fear for Booth from her mind as she began to knot bath sheets together. She'd only need two towels, she decided, and Jared could drop the rest of the way. After testing the knots, she shoved open the window and explained her plan to Jared, making sure he knew exactly what to do.

Brennan tied a third sheet tightly around his slim waist as a precaution and cautioned him to hold onto the sheets for dear life. A drainpipe ran vertically to the ground next to the window, and she pointed it out to Jared as a last resort if he started to slip.

The boy nodded impatiently, and Brennan punched out the screen, giving Jared an impulsive kiss on his damp forehead before lowering him to the ground. Jared was light enough that she wasn't worried about dropping him or the knots unraveling, and a few minutes later, she heard Jared's feet thud as he hit the ground. It was so dark she could only see his outline, and after quickly checking the alleyway for any movement, she leaned halfway out the window to talk to him.

"You okay, Bud?" she said, unconsciously starting to use Booth's pet name.

"Yup, Bones. I'm fine. You coming down?"

Brennan nodded, steadying her breath. There was no place close enough to tie the bath sheets so she could ease herself down as well, so she had to trust in her knowledge of the human body. Holding onto the ledge, she knew that every second she spent paralyzed by fear was a moment that Booth spent fighting with his father.

It was dangerous.

Brennan lowered herself down as far as she could, hanging onto the ledge with her fingertips. The ground still looked far away, she thought, her heart hammering wildly against her chest. She lowered one arm from the sill and gripped the drainpipe, knowing she weighed too much for it to support her weight. She could only hope it slowed her momentum enough to land in a crouch so wouldn't break an ankle.

Her heart in her throat, Brennan let go of the sill, one hand gripping the drain pipe as she dropped. The friction burned her fingers as she slid, but the blessed thing stayed attached to the wall, and she landed in a heap on the concrete, bruised but intact.

Jared's small hands nudged her up, and stumbling, she grabbed his hand and sprinted for Booth's car, hustling Jared in the backseat and locking the doors as soon as she scrambled in. She fumbled for her phone before realizing that she'd left it inside, along with her drivers license and wallet. Sighing, Brennan nosed the car into traffic and met Jared's eyes in the rearview mirror. He looked fierce and vulnerable, all at the same time.

"It'll be okay, Bones," Jared said to her bravely, reaching up to tap the back of her seat reassuringly. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you. Seeley will talk to my dad and be done soon."

Tears of worry and stress flooded her eyes at his defiant words, but she gave him a shaky grin. She had to get home so she could call Russ. Booth might have cautioned her not to call the police, but fortunately, her brother had a gun and she wasn't going to count him as police. As she pulled into the parking lot attached to her apartment a few minutes later, Brennan gave a sigh of relief. The quicker she got Jared inside, the sooner she could call Russ and start seeing what she could do to help Booth.

She sprinted up the steps to the front door, Jared close on her heels. With a start, Brennan cursed when she realized her keys were at Booth's. She grabbed Jared's hand and pulled him around to the side of the building, where she and Angela had buried a key in the dirt in case of an emergency. After a few moments of fumbling in the dark, her fingers unearthed the small box containing the key and she and Jared ran back the front. The key slid in easily, and Brennan ushered Jared in, reaching to flick on the light switch.

Before her fingers could touch the switch, a hand grabbed her, and before she could even scream, the hand had hit her hard in the face, and she was whirled around, a bruising hand crushing her larynx.

"Scream, and I'll kill that kid."

* * *

As soon as Booth saw the bathroom door shut behind Brennan, he breathed a sigh of relief, despite the fuming, angry man standing in front of him. He'd caught Brennan flipping his father off, and he'd already had to duck and weave to avoid his father's enraged attack. He almost froze when he saw the fists flying toward him, suddenly twelve years old and unable to fight back, but some innate instinct had pushed him back at the last second.

"What do you want, Dad?" Booth asked warily. It was clear the man wanted something, and Booth was tiring quickly of this cat and mouse, back and forth shuffle they were currently engaged in. He needed to get his father out of the house as quickly as possible, and then go check on Brennan and Jared.

"Can't a father just come see his two sons?" His father slurred, lumbering past Seeley to the nightstand. Booth growled, keeping his body between his father and the bathroom door.

"Not when that father breaks down the door after abandoning his children," Seeley spat. His gaze flew to his father's left hand, which had been hidden behind him. Silver glinted, and quick as a flash, Sam followed Booth's gaze and whipped the long kitchen knife out in front of him, brandishing it like a sword.

"You're right, boy," Sam Booth growled, using the knife to keep his son a safe distance away. "I am looking for something. And you're going to find it and give it to me before I go in there and have a little target practice with that pretty young thing of yours."

Booth's eyes deadened as he prepared to wrestle the knife away from his father if necessary. He didn't think the man would actually stab him, but he sure as hell wasn't going to give him the benefit of the doubt.

"You touch her and I'll kill you, I mean it," Booth rasped, moving to stand right in front of his father, heedless of the eight inch blade now aimed directly at his heart. "I won't think twice."

His father's eyes narrowed as the blade broke the skin, puncturing a tiny hole in his son's chest. "I don't want to stab you, you fucking idiot. Just get me what I want."

"And what's that?" Booth asked, calmly and deadly. His hands were tense at his side, but he eased back a little, and the point of the sharp knife came out of his chest, glistening scarlet.

"Your mama's wedding ring," Sam Booth said, moving the knife back a few inches in a sort of peace offering. "And all the cash you have on you here."

"Have you stooped so low?" Booth replied silkily, starting to pace around him like a tiger stalking its prey. "So low that you're reduced to robbing your sons? So drunk that you can barely stand up straight and so destitute that you'd hawk your wife's wedding ring for booze and a chance at card tables?"

Booth hadn't heard anything from the bathroom in a long time, so he assumed that Brennan had gotten them out safely by the window. He hoped the God they weren't still in there. He watched his father grow more and more enraged when his son wouldn't oblige him, while Booth was seized with a sort of blessed calm.

The man in front of him was a snake, only meaner, but he knew he wouldn't get the best of him. The man who's name and face he shared was a washed up old man gambling his life away on his last ace. It was pitiful, and if he hadn't caused so much worry and stress to Brennan and Jared, Booth might have been able to pity him. As it was, he could only find a sort of detached hatred in his heart toward the man.

"You're not getting the damn ring," Booth said evenly, grabbing his own impromptu weapon up from nightstand. It was a giant metal flashlight, hardly violent, but heavy and big enough to block the knife, should his father actually be foolish enough to swing it at him.

"I'm keeping that for my wife," Booth said calmly, "And there's not a chance in hell I'd give it up to you."

Booth's father sneered. "Your _wife_. You're going to propose, you worthless piece of shit? You going to propose to that whore who spread her legs for you in here? Tell you what. You keep the ring for now, and I'll go find her and give her a nice, hard fuck—if she's that good of a lay you can keep the thing. With my blessing."

Booth's careful calm cracked, splitting him with a white-hot hatred, so deep that he couldn't have stopped his forward motion if he'd tried. He lunged at his father, his fist pulled back to smash him unconscious. His father raised his hands to defend himself, and too late, Booth saw the light flash dully on the knife.

He didn't feel the pain for a split second, while the knife sank deep into the muscle of his shoulder, and then it was all around him, a living, burning thing.

Booth's startled gaze flew to his father, who looked horrified. The man released the knife, and Booth let out a grunt, falling to the floor with the blade still buried. Pain exploded in his nerve endings, so harsh and sudden that Booth gasped, and his father looked sick as he backed away from his son.

"I-" Whipping his head around the apartment, a cold sobriety fell over the man as he took in his son panting shallowly on the ground. He made a move to pull the knife out, but Booth gasped out a no, and Sam's hands shook as he pulled back. Blood was oozing out around the wound, dripping down and saturating his white T-shirt.

There wasn't as much blood as he expected, and he realized the knife was acting as a stopper.

Unable to stop his incessant quaking, Booth's father grabbed a towel from the kitchen and dropped it by his son, trying to apply some pressure around the wound and then grabbed the cell phone that lay on the nightstand.

Booth's eyes were still open, but hazy with pain, and Sam Booth swallowed hard before dropping the phone in his son's uninjured hand.

"Call for help for you. I gotta get out of here. Christ, I gotta..."

And with that, Samuel Booth scrambled out of the apartment, a knife still stuck deep into his child, the ring and money forgotten.

Booth huddled on the floor, fighting unconsciousness. His fingers tightened briefly on the phone before he succumbed to the blackness, his final thought that at least Brennan and Jared were safe.

He could rest.

* * *

Everyone's response to the last chapter was so reassuring and fabulous! Many of you guessed it was Booth's father, so kudos to you. :) I'll be moving and getting ready for final exams in the next week, but I'll try very hard to get another chapter up in the next week regardless. Thanks to all of you readers, I can't believe how many friends I've made through talking through reviews and review replies. Thank you!

P.S. I researched, and I still couldn't find the name of Booth's father! I got tired of calling him "Booth's father" so I had to give him a name. :P If anyone knows his name for sure, I'll go back and change it, but I couldn't find it and I can't remember it ever being referenced...


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

_She sprinted up the steps to the front door, Jared close on her heels. With a start, Brennan cursed when she realized her keys were at Booth's. She grabbed Jared's hand and pulled him around to the side of the building, where she and Angela had buried a key in the dirt in case of an emergency. After a few moments of fumbling in the dark, her fingers unearthed the small box containing the key and she and Jared ran back the front. The key slid in easily, and Brennan ushered Jared in, reaching to flick on the light switch. _

_ Before her fingers could touch the switch, a hand grabbed her, and before she could even scream, the hand had hit her hard in the face, and she was whirled around, a bruising hand over her mouth._

_"Scream, and I'll kill that kid."_

Brennan froze, painfully aware of the hard grip of her attacker's fingers digging cruelly into her cheek as he covered her mouth. Her eyes rolled frantically, and she saw Jared's face pale with fear, his freckles becoming even more pronounced against his ashen features.

"Let her go," she heard Jared say, his voice quiet, but firm. Her heart zinged against her chest when she heard his courageous words. He was so much like his older brother and in that moment, she could see her Booth in Jared's angry, fearful eyes.

Adrenaline coursed through her, filling her veins with what felt like liquid fire, scorching her and ratcheting up her mental processes until she was processing events are what seemed like light speed.

The voice in her ear, so smooth and gilded, was imbued with the cultured sounds of a rich New England upbringing. Chase Duranceau, she thought, rage spiking through her fear. The bastard hadn't been satisfied with nearly raping her at the party? For the first time since Booth's father had burst through the door seconds after her shattering orgasm, Brennan finally felt like her mind was clear. She tried to signal with her eyes for Jared to run, but the foolishly headstrong boy wouldn't obey her, like she'd known deep down that he wouldn't.

Somewhere along the line of tutoring one hockey jock for her degree requirements, she'd gained a best friend turned almost-lover and the all-consuming protection of a little boy with more courage than men five times his size.

The devil holding her chuckled in her ear, sending a frisson of disgust throughout her body. "Why on earth would I do a thing like that while I hold all the cards, you pitiful little bastard," Chase murmured, his silky tone catching the air and hanging there, ominous as death. "Who are you, anyway? Taking in strays, my dear?" Chase directed the first question to Jared and the second to Brennan, still bruising her face with his harsh hold.

With Brennan's mouth covered, Jared spoke up to answer, his fury at seeing Brennan manhandled squelching any thoughts of obeying her wordless cry for him to escape while Chase was occupied with her.

"My name is Jared Booth and if you don't let Bones go and if you don't get out of here right now, you're gonna regret the day you were ever born."

At the sound of his last name, Jared started in surprise when a sudden rage twisted over Bones' assailant's features. The man suddenly jerked Bones hard against him, and Jared could see that the hand squeezing her arm was leaving finger-shaped bruises.

"Booth. Ah… the infamous Booth," Chase spat out, his eyes gleaming with an unholy anger. "Liking them younger and younger aren't you, whore?" He hissed in Brennan's ear.

Making meaningful eye contact with Jared, Brennan suddenly jammed her free elbow backward, catching Chase squarely in the solar plexus. He let out a grunt and loosened his hold enough for her to slip out from under his biting grasp. The moment her lips were free of his sweaty palm, she yelled out to Jared, telling him to _run, damnit, run. _

Whirling to face her opponent, Brennan avoided his wild punch and kicked out blindly, catching his shin with her tennis shoe. It barely slowed him, and Brennan cursed, not able to see if Jared was taking advantage of the time-window she was giving him to escape. He made another lunge at her, tackling her to the hardwood floor at the entry of her apartment. Brennan's head cracked against the floor, and her vision swirled for a moment before clearing enough for her to bring her fist against his neck, punching him repeatedly in the vulnerable spot at the nape of his neck. When he howled in pain, she lashed out, fighting and kicking any part of him she could reach. He managed to sock her in the jaw again, and even as light burst underneath her eyelids, she fought.

She kept trying to slam her knee up into his groin, but the damn man anticipated it, blocking her entry with his powerful thighs.

She heard a yell and all of a sudden Jared was there, jumping on Chase's back, kicking and scrambling to roll him off of her. His fists made no impact on the hard muscle of Chase's back, so Jared took to raking his nails down hard against the man's exposed skin, trying to ignore the razor sharp knife he had stolen from the kitchen in the melee. He'd wrapped the blade in a small towel and slid the thing in his belt, praying to God that he wouldn't have to use it.

He would, though, if things came down to it. He'd kill this man before he let him hurt Bones. Right now though, he thought maybe he could get the man off Bones before he'd have to pull out the big knife.

Suddenly a huge elbow came out of nowhere and Jared was knocked back in surprise as Chase blistered him under the chin, shaking him off his back like a dog shook off water. Jared groaned in pain as he slammed into the hardwood, the breath stolen right from his gut.

Tired of fighting the wildcat beneath him and chuckling ruefully as he felt himself grow hard at her struggles, Chase relied on his heavy strength and managed to sock Brennan in the stomach, taking advantage of her gasping breaths to tie her hands together behind her back, trussing her up like a turkey as he dragged her to a chair, past the panting, bleeding whelp on the floor.

"I can't decide whether to tie up the kid and make him watch or just knock him unconscious," Chase said conversationally as he bound her feet to the chair legs and her hands to a rung.

"Chase, please," Brennan pleaded, eyeing Jared's feeble form struggling on the floor. A rage like she'd never known was spilling over her, hatred for the golden man who dared lay a hand on such an innocent, protective little boy. For Jared, however, she kept as much of the bite and fury out of her voice. "Please, he's just a little boy. Why don't you just let him go, and you and I can deal with this."

Chase gave her a smirk over his shoulder as he walked over to Jared. He stood over the little form, eyeing his nemesis' brother. "This is his brother, right? Not a kid?" Chase asked, rolling Jared over with his foot so he could take in the features on his face. Brennan's rage deepened to a red haze when she saw the bruise blacken Jared's right eye and the way he wheezed as he struggled to breathe.

No need to ask who _he _was, Brennan thought, staring at Chase's back as she tried to loosen her bonds. The man hated Booth, that much was obvious. She tried to think of a way to use the knowledge to her advantage, but her fear for Jared kept consuming her.

"You're the only girl I've ever met who hasn't wanted to sleep with me, Tempe," Chase began as if discussing what movie to see. He grabbed Jared by the arm and yanked him up, apparently having come to a decision.

Brennan threw herself against her bonds as the devil held Jared aloft by one arm, his small, bare feet dangling helplessly two feet off the ground. Giving the man a hate-filled glare, Jared lashed out with his foot, but Chase swung him easily away, laughing at the boy's mettle.

"I just don't know what to do with you," Chase said, eyeing Jared like he was an insect. "You were supposed to be alone, Tempe." A smile darkened his features. "Or maybe you could have shown up with Angela. The two of you together would be dynamite."

Brennan eyed the obscene bulge in his pants with disgust, and in her anger and struggling she almost missed Jared spitting squarely in Chase's face. The man roared with anger and backhanded Jared, globs of spit sprayed across his handsome face.

Brennan struggled even more fiercely against her bonds, the rope scraping her wrists raw enough for blood to pinprick her skin. "DON'T TOUCH HIM, YOU BASTARD!" She screamed, fighting like a lioness. She couldn't even feel the ropes tearing bloody furrows in her wrists. "Are you such a pitiful excuse for a man that you have to beat a defenseless child? You're nothing! For all your money and looks, you're an empty shell with nothing inside but cruelty and sexual pervasion."

Her words struck home, as she hoped they would, and he released Jared, who now lay still on the hardwood, unconscious. Chase rounded on her, stalking toward her like a big cat, but she wasn't afraid anymore. Her rage was complete, and she'd do whatever it took to protect Jared. Her heart ached when she saw Jared's body crumpled on the floor, but she was heartened by the steady breaths she could see, even from across the room. Her valiant little protector…

"You're going to fuck me," Chase growled in her face as he put his hands on the arms of the chair, his dirty blonde hair falling into his blue eyes. "And you're gonna like it, bitch. And when you're finished, if you make it worth my while, I'll let the kid go."

She smelled alcohol on his breath, and for a minute Brennan wondered what Chase hoped to accomplish here. She was pretty sure the man wouldn't kill them. He had everything, _everything_, to lose and nothing to gain except her body. Surely the trade wasn't worth it.

"What's this even about, Chase? Surely not because I wouldn't sleep with you?"

Chase grimaced. "You would have slept with me, if it hadn't been for fucking Seeley Booth. The man stole my spot on the hockey team and now he's stolen my girl."

"Ah, things money can't buy," she spat at him, curling her lip in disgust. "And for a man who's self-worth is in his wallet, I guess that's a blow. I wouldn't sleep with you if you were the last man on earth."

"Not even to save your boy's kid?" Chase laughed, but the sound held no mirth. "You are as cold of a bitch as they said you were."

His words sent a shiver through her as he cruelly and deliberately invoked her old nickname. "I'll see you on your knees begging for it, whore," he said softly, deliberately taking advantage of her bindings to fondle her breast with rough hands. "And when I'm done with you, Seeley Booth won't even want you. And if you go to the police," his voice dropped even lower, cold steel caressing every cultured syllable. "I'll find the worthless kid of his, I'll blow his brains out and I'll frame Booth for the murder. You know I can do it."

Brennan's breath caught in a ragged gasp that turned into a sob as he suddenly ripped the front of her blouse, the material catching cruelly into her skin before it yielded to his harsh tug. The terrible thing was, with Chase's money and his family's influence, she knew it would be too easy for Jared to suddenly end up dead and Booth to be left with a smoking gun.

Who would question the prominent Duranceau family when Booth, a poor kid from the wrong side of the tracks, had already been maligned for his mother's death?

Chase had her bra unsnapped and his fingers were biting and hard on her skin. She closed her eyes, remembering Booth's reverent look and soft caresses earlier in the evening. She bit her lip so hard blood spurted from the crevice as his hands roved her skin and the bulge in his pants grew even harder.

She gave her bonds one last tug, resigning herself to the burn of the bloody scratches on her wrist when they would pull the rope taught—

She was free.

Brennan managed to stifle her gasp as she realized that her bonds were severed. Keeping her gaze trained on Chase, who was pushing down his linen pants, she let her eyes flick to where Jared had been, only to find him gone.

Now aware of it, she felt the little rascal sever through the bonds keeping her feet tied to the chair. She heard the faint thud as the heavy rope hit the floor, and silent as a wraith, Jared managed to return to his original position on the floor. He kept to the dark shadows, and was so quiet that Chase didn't even glance over, so occupied he was with his own clothing. As Jared lay down, closing his eyes in feigned unconsciousness, she saw the glint of a kitchen knife tucked protectively in his left hand.

Brennan kept her hands behind her and her feet tight to the chair, barely able to contain her excitement over Jared's brave stunt. Chase had finally freed his erection and though she knew she held an ace, the look of terror she gave him wasn't all faked. Her fear made him harden further, and she knew he was painfully, completely erect. Chase stood to his full height, and with her in the chair, the damned thing was just about at eye level. Growling in fear and disgust, Brennan took a deep breath, willing herself to breathe deeply in and out.

She knew it was time. Before he could take another step toward her with that bulbous, tumescent _thing, _Brennan kicked her newly-freed foot as hard as she possibly could upward, catching Chase squarely between the legs, crushing his erect penis between her tennis shoes and his groin.

Chase let out an unearthly scream as he fell to the floor, and Brennan saw his eyes flicker and roll back into his head as he battled unconsciousness.

Without wasting a minute, Brennan had taken the rope previously used to bind her, and tied Chase's feet, unable to get his hands far enough away from his groin to bind them. The man was howling, tears streaming from his eyes and a giant bubble of snot bursting at his nose.

Brennan took the knife from Jared as they both stared at their prisoner for a minute.

"Bud, go to the phone and dial 911, okay? Tell them to bring an ambulance _and _the police."

Her valiant protector nodded once and then trotted off to the phone, while Brennan stood over Chase Duranceau, the knife ready in case he managed to spring up and try to get away.

As the man rolled over, his sobs muffled into the floor, she realized that she needn't have worried.

This particular threat was neutralized.

* * *

_Booth's eyes were still open, but hazy with pain, and Sam Booth swallowed hard before dropping the phone in his son's uninjured hand. _

_"Call for help for you. I gotta get out of here." _

_And with that, Samuel Booth scrambled out of the apartment, a knife stuck deep into his child, the ring and money forgotten._

_Booth huddled on the floor, fighting unconsciousness. His fingers tightened briefly on the phone before he succumbed to the blackness, his final thought that at least Brennan and Jared were safe._

_He could rest. _

The first thing Booth became aware of were cool hands touching him, hands that soothed and eased the terrible pain in his shoulder. The voice was comforting as well, low and melodious. Brennan? God, he hoped so.

"Bren…an" Booth breathed. Sweat dotted his brow and stung his eyes, closed against the pain. A man's voice was there, and the woman sounded concerned. "Brennan," he groaned again, trying to find her. She was in danger.

"Brennan," he called hoarsely, but the sound came out no louder than a whisper. "BRENNAN!" His throat worked convulsively, but he still couldn't get his voice to cooperate. He began to thrash, pain wracking through his shoulder, debilitating him, even as he struggled against it.

And then his shoulder caught on fire, and he couldn't help the agonized moan that wrenched from his lips.

"Pressure, Angela!" Hodgins yelled, the bloody knife held high and aloft in his hand. As soon as he removed the knife, Angela had been there to put pressure on the wound, and especially the big artery only inches from where the knife had pierced.

"Press tightly against the Thoracoacromial artery, that big one in the shoulder," Hodgins was saying, using his own towel to stem the bleeding with one hand, trying to elevate Booth's upper body with the other.

After a few minutes the gush of blood subsided, and cleared enough for Hodgins to dress the wound with the gauze from a first aid kit she'd found in the kitchen.

The last thing Angela had expected to see when she and Hodgins had screeched to a halt in front of the building and dashed up the stairs was Seeley Booth sprawled on the floor. He'd been pale as death, a big knife sticking grotesquely out of his shoulder. For a minute she had just stood there, frozen and thinking _dear God, he was dead and Brennan was going to die in heartbreak. _

She'd stood there, she'd been ashamed to admit, until Hodgins had pushed her out of the way and gone to Booth's side, barking orders like a drill sergeant. He'd been brash and prepared, effortlessly knowing how to staunch the blood, how to dress the wound, how to freaking save Booth's life. As she blindly followed his orders, concern for both Booth and Brennan knifing through her stomach, Hodgins had laid his hand across hers for a brief moment, imbuing his strength into her.

Now, as he finished bandaging the wound, Hodgins spoke to her softly. "You need to stay here with him and call an ambulance, and I'll go try and find Brennan. Where could he have taken her?"

Booth gasped below Hodgins' fingers and his eyes opened, pain-shrouded but lucid. "Brennan?" He rasped. "She's safe. Who could be hurting her?"

Hodgins gave him a look and nodded to the knife still stained red with Booth's blood.

"Uh, maybe the psycho with the knife?"

"That was my father," Booth said dismissively. "Why are you here?"

"Your father? Dude, what the hell-" Hodgins was cut off by Angela's gasp.

"If it wasn't Chase, then where the hell is he now? Booth, where's Brennan? Where did she go?"

Booth struggled against Hodgins' hands and eventually Hodgins helped him sit up straight. "She went to her place with my little brother when my father showed up. Why, what's wrong?" he demanded, using his good hand to steady himself on the floor as he looked from Angela to Hodgins.

"Chase Duranceau-" Angela began, but Booth cut her off.

"Let's go."

"You're not going anywhere," Hodgins said before Booth fixed him with the coldest, most intimidating stare he'd ever seen on another human being.

"Let's. Go. Help me up."

Hodgins sighed and stuck his head under Booth's uninjured shoulder, helping the bigger man stand, albeit shakily, on his own two feet.

With Angela and Hodgins' help, Booth made it to the door and down the front steps, slumping with an inaudible moan when they reached the car parked illegally in front of the building.

Angela filled him in on the way over, and as a pain and fear more terrible than anything he'd felt in his shoulder overtook him, he glanced out the window. All he could do was pray that he'd get there in time. He'd never known sick fear like this before.

His world—his world was at the mercy of that bastard. He'd fucking rip Chase Duranceau to pieces if he'd harmed them. Resting his head, his breath coming shallowly, Booth watched the landscape speed by, his heart blackened with a fear unlike anything he'd ever known.

"Hodgins, can't this thing go any faster?"

Wordlessly, Jack Hodgins pushed his foot down on the gas, and the speedometer jumped from 90 to 100 on the blackness of the dash.

* * *

Wow, I can't believe all the support for this crazy little AU story. I know many of you run the other way when you see the words AU in a story description, so I can't tell you how much it means to me that you've stuck around to read this! Anyway, I'm still behind on review replies, and I was going to work on them today, but I realized that you'd probably rather see chapter 13 since I left you in such a cruel place in chapter 12! I had to get this done today. I'm moving tomorrow, Thursday and Friday, and then Sunday I'm going out of town-to North Dakota *big grin.* I won't get a chance to update til I get back, but I really didn't want to leave ya'll in the scary place that was chapter 12. Things are wrapping up, and don't you worry your lovey-dovey fools, there's a big love scene acomin'. I'm as tired of this stupid Chase as I'm sure the rest of you are. :)

Whew. I hope this lives up to expectations. I wanted Jared and Brennan to kick the man's butt with no help from Booth, wonderful White Knight that he is. I felt they deserved it. And damned, if they didn't get the job done. I didn't know how this would play out until the words came out on paper. I'm as shocked as you are.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

Blue and red siren lights flashed on the bustling street, punctuated by the shouts of medics, policemen, and the occasional burst of radio static. The sporty red Mini Cooper squealed to a stop and Booth tumbled out of the car, clutching his shoulder and sprinting to ajar front door. The lights lent a surreal, devilish glow to the street, now bathed in a sheet of icy rain.

His forward momentum was stopped by a policeman who grabbed him by the shoulders. The motion wrenched an agonizing groan from Booth as the man jabbed at his wound, but he fought the blackness encroaching and tightened his jacket around the blood stained bandage.

"I'm sorry sir, but this is a crime scene and I can't-"

"My brother and my girlfriend are in there, I have to-"

"I'm sorry sir, if you'll just stand here, you can follow us to the hospital."

As soon as the word hospital left the man's lips, Booth let out a harsh gasp, his blood freezing and a blind terror clawing up his chest. "I have to see them," he ground out, knowing he was too weak to force his way past the man. "Please." The last word slipped out almost on a sob, hoarse and so unlike him that Booth wanted to hate the man. He was drenched and begging, his pride shredded, but he didn't give a damn. He'd crawl on his knees if that's what it took to get past the man's iron grip.

"Please," Booth ground out again.

The man looked uneasy, but just then Hodgins rushed up, slapping the policeman on the shoulder and surreptitiously pulling the man's unassuming hands away from Booth's hidden injury.

"My name is Jack Hodgins Jr. Yes, like the senator. He's my father. And you're going to let this man through while we talk to your superiors."

Hodgins continued talking to the man while Angela grabbed Booth's hand, tugging him past the occupied policeman and toward the melee.

Booth spotted Jared in an instant, cheerfully talking a mile a minute to a medic. Booth stumbled over to him, and the instant Jared saw him, he let out a delighted shriek, launching himself off of the table and into Booth's arms.

Booth nearly buckled at the pressure on his shoulder, but he twisted in the last moment to catch most of Jared's weight with his uninjured side. In a minute, nothing else mattered as he clutched Jared for dear life, laying his cheek on Jared's dark, wet head.

"Buddy," Booth began, stumbling over the lump in his throat. "You okay? Are you hurt?"

He could feel Jared shake his head "no" under his cheek, and Booth lifted his head, still clutching his boy to him for dear life, the cold feeling returning as he desperately scanned the crowd of milling policemen and curious observers for Brennan.

When he didn't see her, he growled at the medic, who was trying to extract Jared from his vicelike grip on his older brother. "What the hell happened here?" His voice was dark and furious, and he felt Jared burrow down into him.

"From what I've gathered, some college punk broke into this apartment and when the girl and the little guy came in, he grabbed them. From the injuries, they all fought, and the girl had some ripped clothing that might be a result of a potential rape. That one," the man gestured to Jared "fought like a tiger. He has some superficial injuries, but he's going to be just fine."

Booth's stomach bottomed out near his feet, and he let out a harsh breath as he pulled back to see the dark bruise that marred the pale and fragile skin on Jared's face. Wordlessly, he untangled Jared from his tight grasp and place him gently back in the medic's care. Before the man could go back to checking him over, Booth knelt down and wrapped Jared fiercely in a hug.

"You're a hero, Jared, and I've never been prouder of you," he whispered, his voice grating like sandpaper against the rage and fear coating his throat.

"Go find Bones, I'll be okay," Jared said, patting Booth's head with a little hand. "I don't know how she is. Nobody will tell me anything." He said this with a little glare at the man bandaging his various scrapes.

Swallowing harshly against the fear, Booth turned and saw Duranceau in the back of another ambulance, under guard by a man with a gun. Booth let out a shaky breath, bracing himself against the abject hatred that coursed through his veins. For a brief moment he considered going to see him, but he reluctantly halted.

Brennan. He needed to find her. If that bastard had touched her, Booth was going to rip his head off. The pain in his shoulder was subsiding with the spike in his adrenaline and he grabbed a nearby medic, demanding to know where Brennan was. The hapless medic tripped over his words, clearly alarmed by the fierce look on Booth's face. He could feel the tension lining his face, and he set his jaw against the pain and fear. The man clearly didn't know anything, so Booth scowled and sent the medic toward Jared, wanting his brother to have as much medical attention as possible.

His eyes scanned the crowded, locking in briefly on Jack, who had rounded up most of the policemen and was talking seriously to them. He spotted Angela next. She'd found Jared and the two were obviously charmed by each other. He was giving her his best lady-killer smile and she was yelling at anyone who got near his brother with a needle.

Swallowing, Booth moved to the apartment, nudging open the open door and bypassing the shattered glass on the floor. It dotted the hardwood like black crystal, and his hands shook. Blood dripped from the bandage on his shoulder, trickling down the inside of his shirt, under his jacket. It started a steady drip on the floor, interspersed with the wreckage of Brennan and Angela's formerly cheery apartment. His gaze shot to the floor, where blood that was not his own formed a smear on the floor, helping to paint a terrifying picture of the events. Further in, he spotted a kitchen knife next to a upturned chair, and even his jaw started trembling.

He could hear voices coming from the bedroom, low tones that sent urgency to his steps. His heartbeat was racing, and he could feel the blood seep further out of the bandage. Jared must have loosened it when he hugged him, he thought wildly.

Brennan. He had to find Brennan. Sweat poured down his side, despite the icy rain still glossing his hair, and he tossed his jacket on the floor. Limping, Booth headed to the doorway with the voices.

"I don't need your medical assistance. Go away."

Her voice. The words, spoken with such brash impatient sent a rush of relief so strong through him that his knees nearly buckled.

"Brennan," He said, stumbling to the doorway, desperate to see her. As he rounded the corner, he saw a flash of color, the blue of her eyes and then she was in his arms.

Hot relief filled him, masking his pain more effectually than any drug, and his eyes squeezed shut as he held her to him.

"Brennan," He whispered into her hair, his hands restlessly roaming her, tracing her hair, the small of her back, her arms. She pulled back enough to look at him, and she met his gaze, telling him a story with her eyes more clear to him than any damn book. His gaze scanned the myriad of blues in her eyes, the dilation of her pupils, and the nearly imperceptible wince of the tiny muscles near her eyes.

_Yes, I'm okay. No, I'm not scared. Okay, maybe I was. Hold me._

He obliged the unspoken request, realizing that she could read his gaze just as easily as he could decipher hers. Her body felt fragile in his arms, and now that he wasn't blinded by panic, he could see the scrapes and bruises covering her, as well as the deep gouges on her wrist from her bindings.

He knew the medic who had been trying to tend to Brennan was getting antsy, but he ignored him, shooting him a dark glare over Brennan's shoulder when he spotted him opening his mouth. With a furious flick of his eyes to the door, the medic sighed and ran his hands through hair, indicating with his hand that he had five minutes.

When the door clicked shut behind him, Booth pulled back and placed his hands gently on the sides of her face, one trailing down to rest at the fluttering pulse at the base of her neck. "Thank you, Brennan," He began, his voice a whisper in the quiet room. "You saved everybody, especially me."

Before she could question him, which he knew she would, he pulled her to him, their lips meeting in a gentle kiss. Her lips were soft beneath his, and he breathed in her sigh. At her sweet, familiar taste, he grew more insistent, deepening their kiss until he was short of breath, but unable to pull away. Her hands were tangled in his hair, and as his hand swept down the front of her blouse, he felt the fabric torn there.

Some primal rage swept through him at this invasion, his fingers tightening involuntarily on the frayed edges of the shirt. A growl escaped his lips only to be soothed by her gentling of their kiss, and her tongue darting shyly against his lower lip.

Her hand moved down from his hair to trace bashfully down his body, stopping to rest right over his heart. She pulled away from his kiss, trying to memorize the way he looked in this moment before she did the unthinkable.

His hair was a mess, wet and spiky, and raindrops sparkled in the strands. His strong face was pale, stress and worry leaving a vulnerable look in his eyes. The look ended with his eyes, however, because the hard line of his jaw still spoke hoodlum, as did the rippling muscle beneath her fingertips. She remembered how he'd looked the first time she'd seen him, smiling insouciantly at her as he sauntered through the library. He'd appeared both dangerous and fascinating, an outward show he still had, though she had to look harder and harder to find it—he nearly always softened the expression on his face when he looked at her now.

"Booth, I love-"

She broke off in horror when she rubbed her fingers together over his heart, her intellectual mind automatically registering the familiar substance as blood, but her emotional mind refusing to accept that the blood was Booth's.

Her eyes flew to her hand over his shirt, where her fingers were now scarlet with the blood dripping from the wound on his shoulder. She bit back a cry of alarm at all the blood, which was now streaming from beneath the bandage, coating her hand in a thick layer of the tacky substance.

Her mouth formed the syllables to call out for help, but she was too horrified by the blood, to busy cataloguing the pallor of his skin and the listlessness in his grip to find the word. Her breath caught as she let out a whimper, realizing that she had been internally prattling on and divulging things best left unsaid while he stood patiently bleeding to death.

She found her voice at the helpless look on Booth's face as he grew heavier in her arms, his legs barely able to keep him upright.

"Help!"

When no footsteps arrived, she yelled louder, sliding with Booth's body to the floor as he grew too heavy for her to hold up. "GOD DAMN IT, I NEED SOME HELP."

* * *

Sam Booth crouched in the shadows by his son's apartment, watching helplessly as a strange man and woman rushed in, and then came out a half hour later with his son limping between them. They piled into the red Mini Cooper and pealed out of the street like the hounds of hell were on their heels, and as Sam pulled his own weary self to his feet, he felt the fiery brimstone licking at him through the cold rain. He made his way up the steps to Seeley and Jared's apartment, pushing through the door they'd left cracked in their haste to leave.

The place was a mess from their struggles, and he stared at the pool of blood on the floor. It was spreading, and Sam impulsively dashed across the room to move Jared's toy soldiers before Seeley's blood could coat their plastic green coats.

His hands shaking, Sam moved across the room to begin rifling through the drawers, trying to find the engagement ring. If he didn't get that ring and pay off some very bad people, he was well and truly fucked.

He started with the top drawer, systematically checking through the clothing and various items in the next few drawers. The clothes were all laundered and neatly folded, and a sharp stab of guilt panged through his chest.

Shaking his head to clear it, Sam moved to the closet to search there. A dark feeling crept over him, and he whirled around, trying to decide if the creak he'd heard was the wind or an intruder.

His gaze fell on the pool of blood, which was darkening to a reddish black as it absorbed into the cheap carpet. Gulping back a sob, Sam turned back around, his hands even more jittery. Christ, he needed another hit and he needed to get that money before Santiago brought his hired thugs down upon him.

He found a shoebox on the shelf, high above where Jared could reach, and he pulled it down. Paydirt.

When he eased off the lid, his breath caught in a staggering gasp at the photograph of his late wife. He'd taken it only days before his wedding, back when he'd been so happy.

So damn happy.

She looked beautiful, smiling up at him from his spot above her and squinting into the sun. Christ. He dropped the picture, whipping his head back to stare at the pool of blood. His throat thickened with tears, but he pushed on, shoving Lilly's photograph away from him. The ring was nestled beneath the photograph, and he grasped the little velvet box tightly in one hand as memories assaulted him.

Tears stung his eyes as he remembered her kind smile, and the way she'd lit up like a Christmas tree when she'd told him she was pregnant with Seeley. _Seeley…_

Blood. So much blood on the floor.

His nerveless fingers brushed against some papers and his brain automatically scanned them, picking out the key terms.

_Seeley Joseph Booth._

_ Petition for guardianship of Jared Allen Booth. _

_Citing neglect, abuse, and abandonment from father. Mother deceased. _

The rest was in the convoluted legalese he didn't know Seeley understood, but the gist was clear. There was a spot at the bottom for his signature, signing his rights away as a father. Booth had circled the line violently, obviously frustrated with the legal system that kept him from full guardianship of his brother.

He grabbed the ring and headed for the door, tears now blinding his vision. He wasn't watching where he was going and he realized he'd stepped in Seeley's blood. Bloody footsteps followed him to the door, like incriminating disapproval.

He stared at the blood dripping from the worn soles of his shoes, at then at the ring in his hand. He remembered slipping it on Lilly's finger the night she'd said she'd marry him, despite his poor, lowly background.

She'd been so beautiful.

She'd loved him so much. She'd loved Seeley and Jared so much.

The tears now fell from his overflowing eyes, as he walked slowly across the room to the phone, punching in the numbers before he could talk himself out of it.

"911—What is the nature of your emergency?"

The voice was clinical, but reassuring, and Sam froze, trying to draw up all the strength he knew he'd had at some point in his life. There had to be some reason that Lilly had fallen in love with him.

He'd failed her during her life.

"Hello? The nature of your emergency?"

He wouldn't fail her now.

"My name is Samuel Booth and I'm at 3424 27th Street. I'm calling to report a stabbing."

_So sorry for the delay in this chapter. I've started some summer classes that have been really taking up a lot of my time, but I hope to get the next few chapters out soon. Thank you to everyone for sticking with me. You guys are truly the best. :) _


	15. Chapter 15

_Oh dear lord, can you guys EVER forgive me for leaving you hanging this long? So many of you wrote me the kindest emails and left the most supportive reviews and I was a big coward because I couldn't write you back and say that I was suffering from massive, massive writer's block. It truly was cowardly of me and... well, I just kept saying I'll start the chapter tomorrow, I'll write back to them tomorrow, and... honestly, I have no recourse but to offer my sincerest apologies. Tonight's Bones episode truly entertained me, even as it made my heart hurt like crazy at the end. I know people have been disappointed with the season so far, but I've been pleased and this episode really did it for me. It helped push me back into being able to write again and I've been working on this since the end of the episode, trying to write these guys out of the harsh conundrum I've left them in! Anyway, here's chapter 15, please find it in your hearts to forgive me for my severe lack of updates. The story is nearing the close and thankfully, I get to solve a lot of problems in this chapter, leaving the rest free for my favorite parts-resolution, redemption and SMUT. _

**Chapter 15**

When Booth woke, it wasn't from pain. Cracking an accusing eye open, he winced as his pupils contracted with a sharp zing at the light. That god damn beeping noise was driving him insane.

His hazy gaze grew a little sharper, and he chanced opening his other eye. The beeping noise that was so casually driving him nuts was right next to his ear. Blasted heart monitor. Clearly his heart was still beating. Was the constant beeping necessary?

As his memory returned in a rush, Booth's breath hitched. Brennan-She had to be okay. God, she had to be.

He heard a noise on his other side and he relaxed. She was here. Everything was alright.

"Brennan," he said softly, his throat dry and his lips chapped. He turned his head, anxious for her cooling touch on his face.

When he saw who was sitting in the chair next to his bed, he stiffened, his racing heart beat distressing the god damn machine.

"Russ," Booth tried his voice, but it almost too hoarse to speak. Frustrated, he eyed the ice chips in a plastic cup near the bed. Russ saw where his gaze had landed and rolled his eyes, reaching for the glass.

"Hell no," Booth ground out as Russ held the chip near his lips.

"Tough," Russ said, dropping the chip into Booth's protesting mouth. Glaring mutinously at each other, Booth reluctantly let Russ help him sip after Russ batted away his clumsy arm.

When Booth finally felt like his throat was coated enough to speak, he grabbed Russ' sleeve with his uninjured hand. "What's happened? Where are Brennan and Jared? They're okay?"

"They're both fine."

"Then why are you here?" Booth asked, suspiciously. He tried to move his shoulder and bit back an obscenity when the dull pain turned sharp and biting.

"At Tempe's request," Russ sighed, placing a surprisingly gentle hand on Booth's uninjured shoulder. "Relax man, everyone's safe. You did a good job."

Booth cocked an eyebrow at the man, but eventually gave him slow grin. "Yeah? Bren's with Jared?"

Russ nodded. "I think she's trying to get him discharged, but they're putting up a fight. They need signatures from a guardian, but Tempe won't let them come in and bother you. I already told Tempe both Jared and she could stay at my place while we wait a few days for you to be discharged."

Booth's expression froze into one of horror, and Russ instinctively responded, tensing and eyes scanning the room. "What's wrong?" Russ growled, trying to survey for any hidden danger.

Booth's eyes slid shut as he slumped back against the pillow. "Shit."

Booth could feel Russ' gaze on him, and he finally cracked open an eye, giving him a glare. "You're law enforcement, so I suggest you leave right now."

Russ cocked his head, one eyebrow dipping down in confusion, but Booth was already trying to pull the various tubes and wires out of his body. Grabbing him with both hands, Russ restrained the bigger man.

"What the hell are you doing? And what do you mean 'you're law enforcement?'"

Giving Russ a cold stare meant to intimidate him enough to release his grip, Booth struggled against his restraining hands. "I need to get my brother and go."

"There are just some forms to sign, what's the big deal?"

Realizing the futility of struggling in his weakened condition, Booth weighed his options. None of them looked good. He was going to have to try and reason with Brennan's brother. "My _father _is Jared's legal guardian, Russ," Booth said. "And my mother is dead."

"Your _father _stabbed you with a knife. I know I'm FBI and I don't have jurisdiction here, but I'm going to call in some contacts to get him taken into custody."

"You won't find him," Booth said forcefully. "He's a master at disappearing. If he doesn't want to be found, you won't fucking find him. And until he signs guardianship over to me, they're going to take my brother away and I will not allow that to happen. So you can either help me out of here, or I swear to god, I'll find some way to incapacitate you and it will be painful."

"What do you think you can do? Just grab him and waltz out of here? You'll be breaking the law." Russ' voice lowered menacingly. "And if you break the law, you'll break my sister's heart and I won't let that happen."

"She's better off without me," Booth said dully, staring out the window as he tried to figure out how he was going to find the strength to stand and escape with Jared. He didn't care if it nearly killed him, but he was getting his brother out without involving child services. He'd gotten this far in his life without them, he'd damn well finish raising his brother in peace.

"Listen, punk-ass," Russ suddenly said, pushing down hard enough on Booth's battered body to cause him to wince. "You _stay_, you hear me? Stay."

With that, Jared jabbed the nurse button, ensuring a watchdog over Booth as he stormed out of the room.

"God _damn," _Booth shouted as loud as his hoarse throat would allow him. The nurse who came rushing in took a step backwards at the cold force of his glare. He tried too late to switch on the charm; the woman had called in reinforcements.

The nurse came to his side and upped the dose of medicine dripping into his arm, despite Booth's best attempt to dodge her. As the medicine did its job, the throbbing pain in his shoulder ebbed along with his racing thoughts and he slipped into blissful, if reluctant darkness.

_And then he was awake again, the confining and scratchy hospital sheets gone. He was in a room—his room—but it was light and airy. Sunlight streamed in from the windows, painting his bottle green sheets golden, like light dappling the leaves. _

_And then, soft, so soft, the skin rubbing his. He breathed in her scent, and when he opened his eyes again, she was on the bed in front of him. _

_Brennan. He whispered the name like a prayer, and she responded by pulling his face toward her, his stubble rasping across the tender skin of her cheek. His lips sought hers and they were kissing, her hands smoothing down the sun-warmed planes of his naked back. Wind from the open window ruffled his hair, and he pulled back to see her blue eyes scanning his face. Her lips were pink and swollen from his kisses, and he wondered why they were outside, on a bed of leaves the same color of his bedspread. _

_A moment later, after he pulled back enough to see the rosy tips of her breasts, he forgot to be surprised. She was beautiful, her hair spilling out onto the leaves and her brow furrowed with hesitant passion. All that creamy skin called to him, so he lowered his head to suckle at her, closing his eyes in pleasure at the helpless cry she let out. _

"_Brennan, baby," he murmured against her skin, moving from her breasts to her trim stomach. He placed a line of gentle, open mouthed kisses down to her belly button. Trembling fingers tugged at his hair, and he could hear her breath start to hitch. _

_The muscles in her stomach tensed with every ragged breath, and he exhaled sharply at the sight of her, naked from the waist up. _

"_I'm going to eat you up, Bones," he muttered under his breath, hardly able to control the lust lacing his veins. He could feel himself, hard and aching against the sheets—the leaves. _

_Where was he again?_

_No, that didn't matter. He just wanted to continue his pleasurable trip down her body. Oh God, he was almost _there.

"_Booth," he heard her cry out his name as his tongue dipped along the crease of her thigh. He ran his hand absently down her long legs, feeling silky smooth skin rush across the calluses on his palms. Smooth… so smooth. Her legs tensed with his tickling caresses and her voice was honeyed as she let out a long sigh and his name as a prayer. _

_He moved up her body, running his nose along the sun warmed skin, stopping to kiss the spray of pale freckles barely visible near her collar. He reached his hand down to pull down her pale panties, letting out a harsh groan at the sight. She pulled him down forcefully on top of her, unwilling to let him torture them any longer. _

_Booth was at her entrance, staring intently into her blue eyes as he gently nudged her swollen flesh. _

_Suddenly he was inside her, and he couldn't think anymore. Except, this was wrong. _

_Wrong? How could being inside the girl of his dreams be wrong?_

_An uneasy feeling coiled in the pit of his stomach, and he thrust harder, trying to turn his disquiet into pleasure. Booth's eyes had been squeezed shut, but he opened them in a rush at Brennan's gasp. _

"_Bren," he gasped, unable to stop the jerking movement of his hips. "Honey, what's wrong?"_

"_Hurts, Booth. It hurts." _

_Jerking back in horror, Booth saw that her face was no longer screwed up in pleasure. She looked panicked, and he could see fear in her gaze. _

"_Booth, you're hurting me," she cried, trying to push him away. _

_No. No! Booth tried to pull away, to pull out of her, but his body refused to listen. His hips pistoned in and out, shamefully taking his own pleasure. He watched tears streak down her face and he could feel his own face heated with anger and helplessness. _

_Dear God, please no. Please, he couldn't bear this. He could stand anything but this. He jerked his shoulders back, trying to pull himself away from her, but even as he tried to move away, he found himself frozen. She bit into his shoulder and the pain was excruciating. _

_He could feel the stitches tear and blood soak his skin. _

"_Bones. _Bones!"

His eyes wrenched open and his wild gaze took in the hospital room. Scalding tears were drying on his cheeks, and _where the hell was Bones?_

Letting out a shuddering breath, Booth took in the placid, generic room, trying to calm his galloping heart. He felt achy and sweaty, guilt ripping through his chest in a blinding rush of pain.

_Be my first and make love to me. I know Jared's here, so not now, but… soon, Booth. _

Christ. He didn't think he could do this. Making love with Brennan. He was too big, too rough, and she was everything good and sweet and smart. And Jared.

Booth's drug hazed mind froze at the thought, as a hazy conversation with Russ Brennan began to return to his conscious. The dark knot of stress in his stomach tightened at the memory.

He didn't need to worry about making love with Brennan if he couldn't find a way to keep Jared in his custody.

Booth craned his neck, startled at the blood staining his bare chest. He had torn his stitches in his thrashing, he thought idly. He dropped his head back on the pillow, feeling as if it weighed a thousand pounds.

The door opened then, and he barely had time to blink before a small, dark blur was at his side, clutching his bicep with two little hands.

"Seeley! Seeley! I was so scared you were hurt bad when they didn't let me come see you," Jared said, unconsciously digging his blunt nails into Booth's skin as he ran worried eyes over his big brother's tired face.

"You're bleeding, Seel," Jared said, gently trying to wipe away the trickle of dark blood that had started slipping down his chest. It smeared into a stream of bright red, and Jared's eyes widened in horror.

"Bud, Bud, it's fine," Booth tried to laugh, but he felt sick as he looked at his brother's bruised face. He lifted a heavy hand on Jared's chin to gently tilt his face to the side. "Look at that shiner you've got there. I'm more worried about you."

Jared scoffed. "I'm fine. Bones is fine. That stupid, scary boy is in jail, Bones told me."

At the mention of Duranceau, Booth felt his face darken with anger, even as he tried to mask his outright hatred.

"He didn't hurt us, okay Seel? We hurt him a whole lot more. Brennan already gave me the _talk _about it."

Jared looked less than pleased at this.

For the first time since he'd woken up in a panic, Booth felt the corner of his mouth tug up in a reluctant smile. "The _talk_?"

"Yes. The _talk._ About how that boy was cruel and mean spirited. And how he was real jealous of you, Seeley, because you're big and strong, and on account of how much Bones likes you."

Booth could feel his eyebrows near his hairline as his brother continued to recite the pearls of wisdom he'd gleaned from his conversation with Brennan.

"She said that some people have some inbalances of hypi… hippo…hypo…. hyposomething in their brains which makes them act in ways that good people like you and me can't understand."

Touched that his squinty, beautiful girl could try and find some sort of explanation for the evil that had touched Jared's life, Booth nevertheless reached out a hand and pulled Jared closer to him.

"Look Bud, you know Bones is right. Heaven only knows how many bajillion brain cells she's got bouncing around up in that pretty head of hers, but listen to me, okay? There are just some people who do evil, cruel things, and it's up to good people like you, people with strong hearts and a lot of courage to stand up to them. You did that, Jare. You really did," Booth swallowed hard. "You have to remember to keep praying that you can always be a strong man, and you need to pray for the people who are weaker than you, okay? Even the people who do these evil things."

Jared took in his words and nodded, and then changed the subject, his face growing more pale at his next sentence. "Dad, Dad was the one who did this to you?"

Booth closed his eyes at the hurt he saw in his brother's face. "It was an accident, Jared. He really didn't mean to hurt me like this."

_But the fucking bastard did mean to steal our mother's ring. _Hard as he might try, he was having a hard time aligning his preaching about forgiveness with his hatred toward his father and Duranceau.

Jared's eyes clouded and then he gave his brother a comforting pat on his uninjured shoulder. "Bones' brother, you know, Russ?" When Booth nodded, Jared continued, sadness painted onto his elfin features. "A few hours ago he started making a bunch of phone calls, you know, having some policemen come over to our place to lock it up and look for clues and stuff. Like in Scooby Doo, right?"

"Right, Bud," Booth said, his mind starting to whirr again with all of his responsibilities. Christ. They'd need a new place. He wasn't going to keep Jared in that den of tragic memories one second longer.

"But listen, Seeley," Jared's voice cracked, and he started crying, the pain and stress finally wearing him down. Booth immediately sat up, ignoring the pain and reaching out to envelope his brother in a hug.

"Shh… Jared. No tears, we're going to be just fine, you and me."

"No, Seeley," Jared spoke between gasps, his sobs subsiding a little as he tried to get his important message out. "Dad's in jail, okay? That's what I was trying to tell you. Russ was telling Bones that Dad called the police and turned himself in."

_What?_

"What?" Booth asked, pulling back to arms length, shock blanking his features.

"Yeah. Jail. You think it was just the hypowhatever Bones was talking about? That made him a bad person?"

Still reeling, Booth tried to focus on his brother.

_The papers. He could force his father to sign the papers to let him take over raising Jared._

"Uh…"

"But I should pray for him, right? Like you said. Pray for the people who are weaker. That the bad people might turn good."

When he heard his brother regurgitating the science from Bones and the religion from himself, Booth's mind cleared enough to wholly focus on Jared. The kid was a miracle, still normal and sound after a life that had been way too brutal for someone his age.

_Jesus, what would he do without Jared? _

If he'd have only had to look out for himself, Booth knew he would have been gone the minute his father had walked out and he could practically see how his life might have been—drinking too young, working too much, probably gambling his money away as quickly as he made it.

The kid had saved him from himself.

_He could force his father to sign the papers. _

Letting out a gusty sigh, Booth leaned back, the knot that had been pulling tighter and tighter in his stomach relenting slightly.

"Booth."

The name came from the open doorway, and his breath caught in his throat.

Bones was standing there, looking tired and worn, but still so beautiful it made his heart hurt. He'd forgotten. How had he forgotten how beautiful she was?

"Booth," she repeated, looking a little lost in the doorway.

Jared scrambled out from under Booth's arm and ran to the door, pulling her toward the hospital bed. Booth held out his hand wordlessly, unable to keep his gaze from skimming her face, desperate to know how deeply Duranceau had hurt her.

Brennan reached out her hand to tentatively touch his fingers and the minute the pads of their fingertips brushed, Booth let out a soft groan and pulled her to him, wrapping his good arm tightly around her shoulder.

Conscious of Jared's curiously examining the room beside them, Booth turned his face into her neck, whispering so softly Brennan could hardly hear him herself. She was alarmed to find tears sliding down her cheeks and splashing onto his neck, but it only made him pull her closer to him.

"Bones, this mess. I was so worried—Christ, when I walked in there and saw that blood…" his sentences were harsh and fragmented as the worry and fear caught up with him.

"Everyone's safe, Booth. Just let me take care of you for once."

"Not possible, Bones. I'm a very bad patient." His words made her laugh a little into his chest, and it made his ribcage contract as his worries melted under her shimmering presence.

"Clearly you're a bad patient: you've torn your stitches. I'm going to have to call the nurse back." At Booth's groan of dismay, Brennan shook her head and leaned in close. "Safe, Booth. We're safe. Now rest, okay? You need it."

If she said it to him enough, he might start believing it.

As Booth closed his eyes in fatigue, he breathed in her scent and tried to focus on her gentle words to him.

_Safe. They were all safe. _

It was that thought that sent him back to sleep, no nightmares disturbing his rest.

* * *

_I know, I know. Bones wasn't in this until the very end. I was having a devil of a time trying to get her into the room, but Russ and Jared kept getting in the way. Never fear, friends. Bones and Booth will be back in action in chapter 16. I really disliked having Booth in the hospital. He's hard to write when he can't pace around and be proactive. _


End file.
